


The Heir

by shinchiisanakyojin



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Kings Rising Spoilers, M/M, Parenthood, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinchiisanakyojin/pseuds/shinchiisanakyojin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after his marriage to Damen, Laurent has his heart stolen by an infant found in one of his diplomatic travels.<br/>Gradually, he and Damen must learn how to be parents to the heir to their kingdoms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!  
> This is my first work for this fandom and I'm extremely nervous. I just wanted to write something cute about Laurent and Damen with a baby. (´ヮ`")  
> Just a note about the timeline: This story takes place five years after Kings Rising. In here, Damen and Laurent took three years to get married. 
> 
> Well, that's all. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Two years had passed since the marriage between the leaders of the Alliance when Laurent had decided to move to Ios to live with Damen. His decision did not have much effect on the protests in Akielos, but things were different in Vere. At first, many Veretians saw their king's decision as a betrayal, which incited violent riots in several areas.

Though the Alliance's policy when it came to prejudice between it's composing nations was strict, quite a few groups still remained. Their last attack had been to a village east of Delfleur. Troops from Marlas were being sent to check on the village, looking for survivors.

“You think this happened because of our visit?” Damen asked.

Laurent sat on the bed, in front of the window. His bare, fair back bathed in moonlight, his yellow hair almost white under the glow. Damen could also see the moon from the corner of his eye, but its beauty could never compare to the man staring at it.

“Am I that obvious?” Laurent asked, turning around to lay on top of his husband.

“I'm starting to get used to your way of thinking.” Damen ran a thumb over Laurent's cheek and lips.

“Are you now?” Laurent smirked. “Well, to answer your question, there is a possibility. Though it's not likely that they expect us to show. This might simply be a warning of what will happen if we keep this Alliance up.”

They were silent for a moment.

“I wish to go there.” Laurent said, holding Damen's hand with his own.

“To the village? Why?”

“I don't know.” Laurent sat up on Damen's thighs. “I feel like I should.”

“A feeling? How unusual of you. Usually your mind works over your heart.” Damen smiled.

“I've clearly been spending too much time with you.” Laurent smirked and planted a kiss on Damen's palm.

 

\------------------

 

At dawn, Laurent and Damen were marching alongside the men. They reached the village in no time, only to find houses either burnt or destroyed, along with the distinctive smell of death. The troops went silent. A good portion of them remembering the farms near Marlas, five years ago.

“Check the remaining houses for survivors.” Damen gave the order and the men started their search.

Laurent rode beside Damen as they passed through the area. At that point they understood it was a futile effort to try to find any survivors. The search did not take long.

“We couldn't find anyone, Your Highness.” A soldier informed.

“I see. We'll bury the dead and return.” Laurent said, his grip on the reins so strong the tip of his fingers were white under his gloves.

The troops moved through the destroyed village, not exchanging any words. The situation was far worse than anyone could imagine. The feeling of incompetence and frustration lingered in their hearts and minds. They were about to leave when Damen noticed Laurent had stopped.

Laurent had approached a house, looking inside it through the window. He signalized Jord to get closer.

“Have you checked this house?” Laurent asked.

“Yes, Your Highness. There is an Akielon woman and a Veretian man inside. Both dead.” Jord informed.

“What's the matter?” Damen asked in a low voice.

“I want to check this house once more.” Laurent dismounted and handed his horse to Damen.

“What? Laurent!” Damen called but was ignored.

Laurent walked into the house and found the Veretian man, laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Laurent took a deep breath and moved into the next room. The Akielon woman's body thrown on the bed sheets tainted with blood. The window flapped with the wind, making an annoyingly loud noise. Laurent shut it, trying to think. His instinct had led him into this house but there did not seem to have anything worth searching.

Except there was. With the noises from the window gone, Laurent was able to hear soft whimpers from inside the room. He checked his surroundings and under the bed before realizing the noises came from a small cabinet. He drew his sword in case it was a wild animal and opened the door.

It was not an animal. It was an infant, wrapped in a blanket, tears rolling down its cheeks. Laurent was not sure why, but he felt his heart tighten and his body seemed to move on it's own as he took the infant and held it. His heart beat in an alarming fast pace and in a way, much different from when he thought of Damen or Auguste, though the sentiment was the same.

Damen walked into the room to find Laurent sitting on his feet, holding something in his arms. Laurent's sword lay on the floor, but there was no sign of an enemy or a recent fight. He approached and realized Laurent held an infant in his arms.

“Laurent...”

“We must take him.” Laurent said. “I can't leave him here.”

“Yes, of course.” Damen crouched. “Here, let me take him.”

“No.” Laurent held the baby closer to himself. His eyes slightly widened.

“Laurent, are you feeling alright? You seem anxious.” Damen said.

“I'm fine. I just want to hold him for a little longer.” Laurent placed his sword back on his waist and rose with the same grace as usual, walking out of the house.

 

\------------------

 

By night, they were back at the fort and Laurent went ahead to take the child for a bath. Damen pretended not to notice the soldiers glancing at one another in confusion. Their king had personally taken a peasant orphan from the servants.

Damen returned to his chambers after his own bath to find Laurent sitting on their bed, squeezing the baby's arms and legs, making faces at him. Damen had never seen that many expressions decorating Laurent's face in such a short interval.

“There's something you need to see.” Laurent was smiling. A childish smile, like Damen himself had whenever Laurent confessed his love for him.

“What is it?” Damen chuckled and kissed him.

“Damen, you must look at this child.” Laurent said, taking the child into his arms.

“I have.” Damen said, sitting by his side.

“Not thoroughly.” Laurent shifted positions to allow Damen to look at the infant.

Damen could see it was a beautiful baby boy, with hair and skin almost the same shade of Damen's. But his eyes seemed to have been stolen from Laurent. They were blue as the sky, staring right at Damen.

“Isander said he's never seen anything like this.” Laurent told him.

It was indeed quite rare to find an Akielon with bright eyes and they were usually found in those who had pale skin. Damen had no recollection of anyone who shared his skin tone having such blue eyes. It was definitely one of the most beautiful children Damen had ever seen.

“Oh.” Damen unintentionally let out.

“I knew you'd like it.” Laurent smirked. “He's adorable. And he's a very well behaved child. He didn't cry once. And he ate the whole peach I offered him.”

Laurent was not one to express his feelings and thoughts much. Yet, there he was, holding an infant in his arms and babbling about how great that child was. Damen was baffled in the best of ways. He gave Laurent a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Laurent leaned against the headboard of their bed, holding the baby against his chest for hours. The baby played with the laces in Laurent's clothes, putting a few on his mouth from time to time. It was a quiet child, so the infinite laces seemed enough to distract him until he slept. Laurent caressed the infant's head, almost letting his own eyes close.

“Laurent, you're falling asleep.” Damen whispered, smiling at him. “How about we get ready for bed?”

“Y-Yes. Of course.” Laurent's smile disappeared. “I should hand him over to Isander.”

Damen felt guilty. It was really not his intention to interrupt, much less take the child from Laurent. But everyone else was asleep and they would leave at dawn the next day. Laurent held the baby closer, shifting his legs to raise from the bed.

“Or he could sleep with us?” Damen suggested and Laurent turned at him with a gleam in his eyes. “Come.”  
Damen lay on the bed, waiting. Laurent lay by his side, placing the infant between them, holding him in his arms. Damen covered them and placed his arm on top of Laurent, pulling him closer. The infant seemed satisfied squeezed between them, enough to yawn and adjust his position, going back to sleep right after.

 

\------------------

 

Morning came. Damen was forced awake by tiny hands pressing his head against the bed. He grunted and grabbed the small arms on top of him. He opened his eyes and found a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes staring at him.

“Good morning.” Damen said, sitting up and placing the baby on his own legs.

Damen noticed something was not right. And something smelled. He rose from the bed, holding the baby and opened the door of his chambers. Pallas and Lazar were outside, chatting in two languages at once.

“And I-huh-push? Yes?” Pallas said, in Veretian, making a pushing motion. “Exalted!”

Pallas cut off his explanation and bowed as Damen showed up. Lazar did the same.

“Pallas, I need you to get me a woman.” Damen said.

“A woman, Exalted?” Pallas asked after exchanging a glance with Lazar.

“Yes. Give preference to women who have children or know how to take care of one. Specially boys.” Damen answered and Pallas went.

“You may raise your head, Lazar.” Damen said, pulling the baby's hand out of its mouth.

Lazar rose his head and looked at the baby. He rose his eyebrows in surprise.

“Does this child have blue eyes?” Lazar asked, probably himself. His voice a little louder than usual. “Huh-Exalted.”  
Lazar added, as if trying to hide his inappropriate manners.

“Yes, he does.” Damen said. There was tenderness in his voice.

Pallas returned not long after with a flushed woman, who approached Damen with a lowered head.

“She says she has a two year old son, Exalted.” Pallas said.

“Thank you, Pallas. Please raise your head, madam.” Damen said.

“Exalted.” She did raise her head, but her eyes did not meet Damen's.

“I apologize for such a sudden and, well, unfortunate call. I wish you could help me with him.” Damen said, handing the baby over to the woman.

She took him and held back a chuckle, bowing once.

“Of course, Exalted. Where should I...?”

“Huh... The queens chambers should be fine. Right this way.” Damen opened the door and let the woman in before heading in himself.

The woman seemed nervous, but tried to focus on the infant. Damen kept his distance, but watched carefully, asking questions and listening carefully to the woman's explanations. Damen thanked the woman, allowing her to leave and took the baby again, walking around the room with him.

“I sleep for a while longer and you get yourself a woman?” Laurent asked from the door that connected the King's and the queen's room. He leaned against the door frame, wearing a royal robe.

“I did nothing of the sort.” Damen stated. “She was teaching me how to change a diaper.”

Laurent's eyes widened for a second before he laughed.

“What!?” Damen asked.

“You took it seriously. Unbelievable.” Laurent walked up to them, caressing the baby's head. “Good morning. And to you too.”

Laurent said, first to the baby and to Damen after, along with a kiss. For a long time there was silence, until Damen broke it.

“I did nothing.”

“I know. She wasn't blond.” Laurent said, taking the baby for himself, not seeming at all bothered by Damen. There was not a hint of anger or jealousy in his voice, but his mouth curved up in a smirk. The baby kept one arm around Laurent's neck, looking the other way.

“She was just teaching me...!”

“Damianos, it was a joke. Let it go.” Laurent rolled his eyes.

“I'm just saying, I'd never...”

“Damianos, when have I ever doubted you?”

Damen was silent. He could think of many times.

“...After we got married.” Laurent added.

“Never.” Damen admitted.

“Then you shouldn't worry. I know very well you are loyal and true to me. I simply thought of amusing myself.”

“Alright, then.” Damen was satisfied.

He leaned in to kiss Laurent and the infant hugged Laurent's neck, pushing Damen's face away.

“It might not be me, but it seems _someone_ is jealous.” Laurent mocked, caressing the baby's head.

 

\------------------

 

Later, they marched to Arran. In order to retrieve the Veretian support, Laurent would use the two things he was most skilled at: His words and his beauty. He would play well the part of the proud Veretian golden king, concerned about his country, marching alongside Akielons and Veretians alike to get in touch with his people. They would pass through a few cities along the way to Arles, conquering hearts and faithful allies along the way.

Since Isander – who had been formally hired as Laurent's personal assistant when slavery was forbidden – would be in one of the wagons, along with other servants, he was entrusted with the infant. Damen found amusement in watching Isander's eyes widen as Laurent gave him over twenty five instructions about how he should care for the child before allowing Isander to even hold him.

As Isander left, Laurent's expression was stoic, as if they had returned to the moment they first rode together five years ago. It broke Damen's heart, but it was necessary. Damen held Laurent's face and kissed him before they rode out. Laurent's expression softened.

 

\------------------

 

The troops stopped to set camp many hours later. Laurent dismounted, handed his horse to one of the servants and rushed to Isander. Damen had to admit he felt a small sting in his heart. Laurent came back a few moments later, holding the baby and caressing his back.

“We should stay inside the tent. The wind is quite strong.” Damen said.

Laurent wore simple pants and a white shirt as he sat on the cushions. He placed the baby on his lap and shred the food until it was small enough to feed the child. As a conclusion, Laurent himself had eaten almost nothing. Damen took a piece of the meat he ate and offered it to Laurent. Despite being missing an earring, the image of Laurent leaning in to take the food from his hands reminded him of the night in Nesson. This time, Laurent used the opportunity to kiss Damen's fingertips before backing away. There was a moment of silence in which the tent became awfully warm.

The tension was cut by a small body, falling forward, into the cushions. The baby crawled up to where Damen sat, climbing on his legs. Damen picked him up, staring at his features.

“He's truly adorable.” Damen admitted, bringing the infant towards himself, holding him with one arm to take a piece of bread for himself.

The baby tried to reach for the food and Damen gave him a piece. A small hand grabbed his as he did so and Damen felt warm inside. It seemed like Laurent's feelings had passed on to him and he placed a gentle kiss at the small hand.

“Damen, I-” Laurent got closer, holding Damen's arm. “Do you think we could-?”

Laurent's cheeks were flushed as he asked against Damen's arm. His grip was gentle, but tense. Damen sighed.

“I don't know. He's not ours to keep.”

“Then to whom does he belong? No one could give him a better life than us. No one could provide for him like we can. No one-” Laurent stopped, moving to Damen's front. It was like the words were struck in his throat, struggling to come out. “No one could love him like we do.”

The word “love” came out of Laurent's mouth as a whisper. It was like he was ashamed of admitting it.

“Laurent, we've only had him for two days...” Damen started, trying not to focus on Laurent's expression. He looked at the infant instead, but his heart beat just as fast. He was slowly falling in love with this child and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“And yet you felt it, did you not? As you held him you understood, did you not?”

Damen wanted to deny it. It was like their roles had reversed. Laurent talked about feelings as Damen hid his own. Damen wanted to say yes, he wanted to take this child back to Ios when they returned, but he still hesitated. Damen sighed, kissing the infants forehead.

“We do need an heir. Perhaps we could consider it.” Damen smiled and Laurent reciprocated, laying by Damen's side to eat a few fruits.

Damen smiled imagining the possibilities. Imagining himself, with Laurent by his side, splashing water on the beaches near Ios with a toddler. A beautiful Akielon toddler with eyes as blue as the ocean behind him.

 

\------------------

 

The next day the troops moved forward at dawn and reached a city by sunset. Laurent and Damen guided the troops, not touching each other, but close enough for people to see them as one. They nodded, waved and made all the necessary frivolous procedures to win over the people. It was easy for Laurent. Even the Akielons were quickly fascinated by his untouched appearance.

From the pallet, the kings – who at this point were holding each other's hands – made their speech. By the time they left, hours later, the whole town was already in love with their golden king and starting to accept the barbarian king by his side. It was a start, considering they were still close to the border.

At night, Laurent sat on a chair inside their tent, confirming their route for the next day. Damen sat in front of him, sharing fruits. Laurent held the baby the whole time, seeming unable to let go of him. Damen rose from his chair and pulled it closer to Laurent, sitting by his side to play with the infant.

“I talked to the women. They discussed his size and abilities and guessed he must be five or six months old.” Laurent commented.

“Really? So he might be turning one not long after we reach Arles.” Damen said, caressing the baby's head.

“Is it normal?” Laurent asked, after a moment of silence. “To feel like this, from the very first time you see someone?”

“It's not. But it might be, if it's your child.” Damen said.

Laurent smiled softly and placed one hand on Damen's head, running his fingers through his hair.

 

\------------------

 

After slowly riding north, passing through the cities most important to their cause, the troops established a resting point in Chastaigne. The men sat around the fire, chatting. Damen wished to join them, yet he could not. He missed the direct contact with the men, after having spent so long as a soldier. He could feel the men's tension as he merely approached, to exchange a few words with Jord. 

The men were mostly Akielons, but a few Veretians had transferred to Akielos. Lazar was one of them, though his reasons seemed much more simple as his hand discreetly dove behind Pallas, who sat by his side. Damen held back a laugh when he saw Pallas eyes widening and his poor metal mug bending with the strength of Pallas's fingers. 

Damen walked into his tent, pacing around with the baby until he slept. It felt comfortable to hold him like that. He and Laurent quickly discussed their route and Laurent left to dismiss Isander, who still waited for any orders Laurent might have. He did so and Isander walked into his own tent wishing Laurent a good night.

“The preparations are finished, Your Highness.” Jord said, approaching Laurent with a bow.

“Very well. Thank you, Jord.”

“Huh, may I humbly make a personal suggestion, Your Highness?” Jord asked.

It was not like him to mix personal feelings, so Laurent was intrigued. Laurent nodded and turned to face him.

“Perhaps,” Jord hesitated, wondering if he was crossing any lines. “Your Highness should give him a name.”

“He's not mine to name yet.” Laurent said after a moment of silence.

“He isn't?” Jord seemed surprised.

“We can't simply take a child and claim them as ours. We need an orphanage, and a process. Specially if he's to be king someday.”

“There are many orphanages around Vere. Your Highness would just need to find one to provide for the papers. The law about your adoption has already been written and approved. Any child of yours will be our prince, whether it carries your blood or not.” Jord continued. His tone was careful and he smiled softly.

The corner of Laurent's mouth curved up and there was silence for a while.

“You may rest, Jord.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Have a good night.” Jord said and left.

Laurent walked into the tent to find Damen caressing the baby's head. Laurent walked up to him, running his fingers through Damen's hair, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Maybe we could start considering a few names.” Laurent suggested. “Nothing official. Just a thought.”

Damen smiled, caressing Laurent's cheek.

“Maybe we could.” Damen said, trying to keep his heart from beating too fast.

 

\------------------

 

It took them months, but Arles was almost within reach. From where the troops set up camp, a very small Chastillon could be seen. Laurent spent quite a while staring at it, from a spot away from the camp. Damen approached in silence and heard him talking to the infant in his arms.

“... And someday, if I'm lucky, I would like to take you there. As my son, to teach you to ride as he has taught me. Your father, well, your Akielon father, would be there, riding by our side.” Laurent's voice was a whisper, so low Damen's could barely hear it over his own heartbeat. “Don't tell him as said this, but he looks marvelous on top of a horse.”

Laurent took a deep breath, raising the baby above his head. The infant stared at him, chewing on his own fingers. Laurent lowered him and kissed his cheek.

“I wish you could stay this young forever. So I could always protect you and tell you everything, not fearing you delating me to your father.” Laurent chuckled.

Damen took another step forward, purposely stepping on a stick. Laurent turned back, his eyes widened.

“How long have you been standing there?” Laurent asked, blushing. It was like Damen had somehow invaded his privacy.

“A moment ago. Why?” Damen nonchalantly said, as if he had heard nothing.

“No reason. Shall we sleep?” Laurent said, already heading back to the camp.

“Sure.”

Damen reached out and held Laurent's arm, pulling him closer. Damen placed sweet kisses on Laurent's cheeks before slowly moving to his mouth. Laurent's mouth opened itself to invite Damen's tongue in. Their kiss started and ended slowly, another few chaste kisses were exchanged before they returned to their tent.

 

\------------------

 

They were about to reach Arles. Damen and Laurent sat by the table, which had been cleared to give the infant enough space to crawl.

“We should give him a Veretian name.” Damen suggested. “He'll grow up in Ios, surrounded by Akielons and their culture. I think it's important he has something to remind him of his Veretian part too.”

The baby reached the edge of the table and Laurent gently pushed him the other way, so he would not fall. Laurent's eyes were focused on Damen, and he had an almost imperceptible smile.

“Did you ever think you'd be saying that?” Laurent asked.

“No.” Damen smiled. “But I never imagined a Veretian like you could exist either.”

“If you want a Veretian name,” Laurent said, turning on his seat to pull the baby closer to himself and away from the opposite edge. “What about Théodore?”

“Théodore?” Damen asked.

“Yes. Do you like it?” Laurent asked.

“I do, but,” Damen hesitated. “I thought you'd like to name him after...” Damen said, in a low voice.

“Auguste of Vere is dead.” Laurent said and his body tensed up as he did.

Damen understood. If there was a second Auguste, it seemed like the first one might be forgotten.

“I love Théodore. I think it's perfect.” Damen smiled and placed a chaste kiss to Laurent's lips.

There was a long silence before Damen spoke:

“Nikandros will be furious when he finds out we're having a child and giving him a Veretian name.”

“Yes. I'm aware of that.” Laurent said. A devilish smile decorated his features.

 

\------------------

 

The official announcement happened on the same day as the naming ceremony. Damen felt awkward enough wearing Veretian clothes, but there was someone who was even more annoyed than himself. Baby Théo would not stop crying unless it was to pull on his constricting clothes. His clothes reminded Damen of a dress, which made it loose on the end but the top was like one of Laurent's clothes.

“Are you trying to suffocate the child?” Nikandros complained to Laurent.

Nikandros refused to wear Veretian clothes. He also refused to smile, look at the infant, call him by his name – He continued to call him “Theodoros” – or even look at Laurent in the eyes.

“Veretian royal children have been wearing this for generations. It was made just for him. He's not suffocating.” Laurent argued.

“Then why won't he stop crying?” Nikandros retorted.

“Will you two quit it? This won't make him stop.” Damen said, taking Théo into his arms. He was tired of their bickering. “I'm gonna loosen it just a little, alright?”

Damen said, making sure not Nikandros nor Laurent would complain. He loosened up the top of Théo's clothes, rocking him to calm him down. The crying ceased, but a few whimpers of protest remained. For now, it was enough.

“I told you it was suffocating him.” Nikandros muttered under his breath earning an icy look from Laurent.

The ceremony was long and boring enough that Damen was barely feeling his legs by the end of it. By his side, Laurent sat perfectly on his feet, as if nothing bothered him. Théo, being carried from one side to another by the master of ceremony – who did not seem capable of stop talking – had slept. And Nikandros was rolling his eyes so much Damen stopped glancing at him about halfway through the ceremony.

After what seemed like an eternity, Damen rose feeling his legs tingling and accompanied Laurent to carry the baby to the balcony. Théo woke up as Laurent took him in his arms and his screeching cry echoed through the walls.

“Oh no, no, no...” Damen said, approaching Laurent. 

Laurent held a firm expression, rocking Théo. He was tense.

“Get him something to eat.” Laurent asked and over eight guards and servants gladly rushed to do as requested.

After calming a recently woken up Théo with some food, they headed to the balcony. Damen carried the baby, Laurent holding his arm. Théo seemed to get excited with the crowds cheers, watching them with big eyes. Damen and Laurent held him together as they rose him for the people to see. People cheered and Théo laughed.

 

\------------------

 

A few months later the word had traveled all across the Alliance's territory, from Ios to Arles: The blue-eyed prince with olive skin, symbol of the union between Akielos and Vere. The impact of such a rare child reached levels no one could imagine. Some even believed in fate. A child, born in the most meaningful land on the border, bearing features that represented both kings could not be a simple coincidence. And though it was far from over, even civil wars — much like the crimes based on prejudice — had lessened considerably.

Nikandros was a perfect example of that change. He and Laurent would never get along, that was clear. Yet he could not resist the charms of the little prince. Nikandros tried to keep his frown for the months they traveled back to Ios, but he could not. The prince had one of the main characteristics of his Veretian father: Charisma. And without an awful personality and provocative comments to accompany him, it was impossible for Nikandros to resist.

The prince also seemed quite fond of the man, reaching for him many times as Laurent paraded around the castle with pride, carrying his child.

“Greetings, little Exalted. Your Highness.” Nikandros greeted the child with a smile and Laurent with the politeness expected from an ambassador and kyros.

“Good day, Nikandros.” Laurent replied and held the baby in a way Nikandros could see him better.

Nikandros would let the prince play with his fingers, or give him gentle pokes in different places to make him laugh. As usual, Laurent allowed this in a composed fashion. Whenever Nikandros was done, he would excuse himself and be on his way.

“In a month we'll celebrate his first birthday.” Laurent said. “We expect your presence as the ambassador of Akielos and kyros of Ios.

“It will be my honor, Your Highness.” Nikandros told him.

“Very well. I need to get him back to Damen soon, so excuse me.” Laurent waited for Nikandros to step away and turned the baby back to himself.

There was some protest from the young prince but he soon calmed as Laurent's lean fingers caressed his head. He headed to the training room, where he knew Damen would be. He found his husband swinging his sword in the Veretian style. It did not suit him at all and he was _not_ the best at it.

“You're terrible at this.” Laurent smirked.

“You were probably awful as you started too.” Damen said and pulled him in for a kiss. “How is my boy?”

Damen asked, putting his sword away to get the baby. Laurent stepped back, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Damen.

“Clean up before you touch the baby.”

Damen rolled his eyes, but smiled, cleaning his hands, arms and chest. He could not help noticing Laurent's eyes fixated on his body. It was something he began to realize over the years: Laurent liked to stare. A lot.

“Is that enough, Your Highness?” Damen asked in a mocking tone, spreading his arms.

“Yes.” Laurent replied and handed the baby over to him. “Torveld seems to be coming to the ceremony.”

“That's great. I wonder how Erasmus is doing.” Damen commented, letting the baby chew on his fingers.

“It's been a while. Well, I came here just to let you know that.” Laurent said, pacing around the room.

“Really? You could have sent someone.” Damen told him.

Laurent looked at Damen from head to toe and his lips formed a sly smile. He slowly approached, sensually kissing Damen's bicep as he took the baby from Damen's arms.

“I know.” Laurent left.

Damen took about five seconds, standing completely still, to realize he would no longer be able to focus on practice. He headed to the baths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my writing wasn't too bad (I was really worried about this. (ಥ_ಥ) ) and that this begginning wasn't boring or forced/out of character. I think Laurent would be one of those parents that never let's go of their children, so this chapter Damen did not interact with the baby that much. But it'll happen in the next chapters. Hahaha!  
>    
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, thank you SO MUCH for your kind comments and kudos on the first chapter! (*´∀｀*)  
> I was so nervous about posting it, and I'm really grateful for your support! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this second chapter!

The palace was agitated. Servants came and went by carrying trays of food, decorations and making sure everything was in its place for the prince's first birthday. The Patran delegation was about to arrive, so Isander was sent to check on the kings.

“Yes?” Laurent opened the door, wearing nothing but a robe.

“G-Good morning, Your Highness.”

Isander blushed. Laurent was beautiful enough on his own, but seeing him in a simple robe, with a disheveled hair made him much more attractive. Specially when prince Théo pulled on one side of the robe, allowing a part of Laurent's chest to be exposed.

“Huh, commander Jord has sent me to inform Your Highness that the Patran delegation should be arriving soon.”

“Very well. Thank you, Isander. We'll be ready in a moment.” Laurent said and Isander left after paying obeisance.

Laurent walked back to the bed, listening to Théo's babbling and placed him next to Damen. The baby crawled, climbing on top of Damen's head. With a moan and a soft smile, Damen gently pushed him back on the bed.

Théo fell backwards, laughing and bouncing on the bed once before rolling back onto his stomach.

“Good morning, father.” Laurent kissed Damen's cheek, pulling Théo closer to Damen again. “I came here to see you.”

Théo touched Damen's face and babbled. He tried to force Damen's eyes open and earned a delicate pinch on the leg and a tight hug.

“Good morning, son. Happy birthday.” Damen squeezed Théo in his arms. “And good morning to you too.”

Damen smiled and pulled Laurent in for a kiss. Laurent lay beside Damen, caressing Théo's back.

“We need to get ready.” Laurent told him.

“We will.” Damen said, brushing his thumb against Laurent's cheek. “Someday.”

Damen laughed and Laurent rolled his eyes, raising from the bed and selecting his clothes, to change. He removed his robe and Damen admired his form. He wanted to express how gorgeous Laurent was, but no words came.

So Damen whistled. Actually whistled, like a desperate Lazar looking under an Akielon chiton. Laurent slowly turned to face him. One of his eyebrows formed a high arch and his expression wondered if Damen had completely lost his mind.

“Do that again and this alliance is over.” Laurent said, taking a pillow and gently throwing it in Damen's face.

Damen laughed, getting up and putting Théo on the floor to crawl as they changed. Laurent placed all his clothes on the bed before putting on his pants. Damen was dressed by the time Laurent finished the front laces of his shirt. Damen approached his husband and tied up the back, after placing a kiss on Laurent's shoulder.

When he was done, Laurent turned, holding Damen's face in his hands. Damen leaned in for a kiss, but Laurent turned his face away.

“Look behind you.” Laurent whispered, as silently as if he was hunting deer.

Damen did as he was told and saw Théodore standing, his arms stretched to the side. It was not the first time he attempted walking, yet Damen and Laurent had high expectations. Théo raised one leg under his parents careful watch and stepped forward. Laurent and Damen tensed up, but held back their gasps. Unaware of his parents reaction, Théo took another step and fell forward.

Damen held Laurent in place and simply whispered “No.” as Laurent made a motion to go towards their son. Théodore rose and looked at his parents.

“Did you walk, son?” Damen smiled and crouched. “You were really good! Why don't you try again, huh?”

Théo smiled, and crawled about half the way before rising again. First the bottom, then the upper body. So adorable Damen simply wanted to hug him. But he held his place, waiting for his son. Théo took a long time and quite a few falls – which made Laurent tense up every time – to reach Damen, who kept rooting for him with open arms.

“You did such a good job!” Damen said, squeezing Théodore in his arms.

“He walked.” Laurent still had not moved. His eyes were widened, but his tone was impassive.

“He did.” Damen smiled. “He's growing up too fast.”

“I'm aware of that.” Laurent's expression was unreadable.

“Do you need to hold him?” Damen asked.

“Yes, I do.” Laurent had taken Théo into his arms before he even finished that sentence.

Laurent sat on the bed, ignoring his change of clothing, holding Théo close. Damen felt like Laurent needed a moment alone, so he excused himself and left to wait outside for a while. He returned after a few minutes and helped Laurent get dressed, so they could meet the Patran delegation.

 

\------------------

 

Torveld was received by the kings and prince. Erasmus came right after him, brushed hair, clean skin and wearing nice clothes.

“King Laurent, King Damianos. It is a pleasure to be here.” Torveld said.

“Welcome to Ios. Thank you for coming.” Laurent said.

“My brother wished the young prince a happy and long life. He apologized for not being able to come personally.” Torveld said, glancing at Théo.

“We thank him for his kind words. Please, come rest. You must be exhausted.” Damen said making a small gesture towards the door.

“Thank you. We will.” Torveld left and Erasmus promptly followed him. “I see the rumors about the prince's beauty and unparalleled uniqueness are true.”

“Thank you, prince Torveld. You are very kind.” Laurent smiled softly, though his heart burned with pride inside his chest.

Laurent and Torveld walked together. Damen purposely slowed down to wait for Erasmus.

“How are you, Erasmus?” Damen asked, trying to hold back an agitated Théo, desperately trying to reach Erasmus hair.

Much like his Akielon father, Théodore held a certain _preference_. No one could know yet if this would be a romantic preference in the future, but the prince seemed obsessed with curly hair. Color, length, none of this mattered. All it needed to unleash his irrepressible desire to grab was for it to be curly.

“I-I'm very well, Exalted.” Erasmus seemed surprised to be addressed, and did not dare look Damen in the eyes. “Prince Torveld is very kind. This slave is truly grateful.”

“It seems like _this_ prince is also very fond of you, Erasmus.” Laurent told him. “Would you like to hold him?”

“W-What? I could never, Your Highness! H-He's the prince of Vere and Akielos, a simple slave like me-!” Erasmus' cheeks were flushed as he stopped walking to lower himself to the ground.

“Is perfectly capable of holding my son. I believe you have working arms, don't you?” Laurent told him, his expression serene.

“I-!” Erasmus looked at Torveld for guidance.

“If the kings have no objection, I don't see why not.” Torveld smiled.

“Then-Uh-Sure.” Erasmus was flushed, but seemed excited as he stood.

Damen handed Théo over to Erasmus, who took him with care. Erasmus felt the heavy weight of the baby on his arms as he held him firmly by the armpits, far away from his body. The three men around him held back their laughs. Torveld touched Erasmus' and the baby's back, pushing them to closer until Théo was placed against Erasmus chest.

“Oh.” Erasmus smiled. “He's warm. And soft.”

Théo did not take long to start climbing up Erasmus, reaching for his curls. Erasmus was holding him firmly, but his eyes widened in fear of dropping the baby. He lowered his head, to allow Théo to have better access. Théo grabbed Erasmus hair, rolling the curls around his tiny fingers.

“He likes your hair.” Torveld tried to touch Erasmus's head and Théo pushed his hand away.

“Théodore!” Damen was embarrassed. “I deeply apologize for my son's lack of... Diplomacy.”

“It's quite alright.” Torveld laughed. “I've had people who were envious of Erasmus before, but none has ever been so... _Honest_.”

The group continued their stroll until they reached the rooms in which the Torveld would be staying.

“Well, we should rest before the party. We can let the prince play with your pretty curls later.” Torveld said.

Erasmus tries to pull Théo away, but his small fingers were entwined in Erasmus curls, holding firmly. Damen intervened pulling gently enough not to hurt Erasmus, who stood there, laughing. Laurent also approached, opening Théo's fingers one by one. It took some time, since Théo would close the previous finger as soon as Laurent opened the next.

After some struggle Erasmus was free and Théo was crying. Torveld and Erasmus left to their chambers.

 

\------------------

 

Except for Théo's mild rebellion against his Veretian clothes, the party was joyful. Partiality against Laurent's wishes, Damen took off Theo's doublet, letting him crawl around the room wearing pants and a white laced shirt that resembled Laurent's undershirt. He looked adorable in Veretian clothes, Damen had to admit. Isander walked around the room, following Théo to allow Damen and Laurent to rest for a few minutes.

“I'm tired.” Damen said, holding Théo's tiny doublet. He sat on the throne beside Laurent.

“And he can't even walk properly yet.” Laurent said, using his lean fingers to support his head.

“He was such a quiet baby. What happened?” Damen chuckled, turning to Laurent.

“It's your fault.” Laurent said. The corner of his mouth rose. “You encourage his rebellion.”

Laurent's eyes glanced at the doublet on Damen's lap. Damen laughed and gently pushed Laurent to the side.

Their attention was turned to the center of the room. Erasmus was given a kithara to play and, as expected, everyone in the room ceased their activities to listen. Damen searched the room and noticed Isander, kneeling in front of Erasmus, holding a very focused Théo. Whenever a song came to an end, Isander would hold Théo's tiny hands and clap them.

When Erasmus was done, Théo rose, taking two steps towards him before falling. Isander had been close by and held him before he even reached the ground. Théo protested, trying to reach Erasmus. Damen approached.

“Isander, let him go.” Damen calmly said. It was not an order.

Isander instantly pulled back his hands and Théo reached Erasmus with a smile. He touched the kithara and Damen pushed his hand away.

“No touching. It's Erasmus's. Not yours.” Damen said.

“Oh, it's quite alright, Exalted.” Erasmus said. He glanced at Torveld for a second and received a nod before turning back to Damen. “In fact, if I could receive-huh- the honor of e-entertaining the young prince, I-”

“Erasmus, are you asking me to play with him?” Damen asked.

Erasmus was so flushed his cheeks almost met the color of Damen's flags. He did not even dare to reply.

“Of course you can, Erasmus.” Damen smiled.

Erasmus seemed like he would drop dead from his heart at any minute. His hands were shaking as he reached for Théo, gently pulling him by the hand. Théo promptly sat on his lap, as if he had done it all his life. Erasmus pulled one string and placed Théo's tiny finger on the same string and let him pull at it. Théo was thrilled. He jumped on Erasmus's lap, excitedly waiting for each new string Erasmus helped him pull.

Damen admired Erasmus. He was calm, gentle and a beautiful sight. He kept his perfect posture no matter what, even when Théodore was a little too rough, as any one year old child would be. And Torveld was definitely a good master, since Erasmus's clothes, body and mind seemed to be in the best of states. Damen felt satisfied to have played some part in Erasmus's happiness.

 

\------------------

 

It was late. Damen had been making small talk with Nikandros on the balcony. Not as King and kyros, but as men. Friends. Laurent had been caught by Makedon as he exchanged words with Torveld.

“You look like a fool.” Nikandros kindly said.

“What?” Damen asked.

“With him.” Nikandros drank from his glass.

“Laurent or Théodore?”

“Both.”

Damen smiled with pride, giving Nikandros a tight sideway hug.

Nikandros smiled and said: “You should be with them... _Exalted_.”

The corner of Damen's mouth curved up and he squeezed Nikandros shoulder as he headed back into the hall.

He scanned the room and found Théodore lazily sprawled on Erasmus's lap, chewing on his own hand and watching Isander shake one of his toys in front of him. Théo laughed and squirmed whenever Isander shook the toy close to his face.

Not far from them, Laurent chatted with Torveld and Makedon. Gladly, there were only two empty glassed beside Laurent. Even so, he was much more talkative than usual, and seemed to be telling a very interesting story.

“...So, as I'm passing through, the women are gossiping about how 'King Damianos opened the door for her!' and 'she walked into the queen's chambers!' ” Laurent said in a high-pitched voice, fanning himself with his hand, impersonating a woman.

The whole group laughed. Makedon wiped a tear of his eye. Damen said nothing, but simply approached.

“Oh, look. It's our humble king.” Laurent mocked. “Well, if you excuse me, I shall put the young prince to bed.”

Laurent rose from his seat. For the guests, he simply touched his husband's arm and brushed their cheeks together, as a simple gesture of affection. For Damen, Laurent felt the effects of his drink for a moment, held onto Damen and made a fine job out of hiding it.

“Should I accompany with you, my king?” Damen asked.

“No, you can enjoy the party for a while longer.”

“If you say so.” Damen smiled and sat down.

Makedon talked, but Damen kept focused on Laurent. Laurent did not stumble, but Damen could see something was not quite right about the way he walked. Laurent approached Erasmus and Isander, said something and both of them promptly rose. Erasmus handed Théodore over to Laurent and he left, carrying the baby. Erasmus and Isander headed in Damen and Torveld's direction, using the skills they had learned as slaves to go unnoticed, not to bother them with their arrival.

 

\------------------

 

Damen did not take long to excuse himself and return to his chambers. He slowly opened a small gap of the door to peek inside. Laurent lay on his side, one hand supporting his head and the other gently caressing their son's belly. He was singing. As low as he had been speaking in the camp close to Chastillon. His voice was soft and Théo fought to keep his blue eyes open and focused on Laurent's.

Damen stood by the door, not wanting to interrupt their peace. Pallas and Lazar were close, but kept enough distance not to hear anything coming from inside. Laurent lay closer, holding the infant in his arms, careful not to get Théo agitated. He sat on the bed, lowering his head to kiss Théo's.

“I love you.” Laurent whispered and Damen's heart seemed to be climbing its way through his throat. “So, so much. You're such a good child. We're so lucky to have found you.”

Damen stood, in silence. His heart beat fast and his body felt warm. Damen knew Laurent could let himself go with him, but now there was someone else, besides Damen that could get such a long and honest statement like this. Only one person could, and it was his son. _Their_ son. Laurent, always silent and private had been singing and confessing his eternal love to _their_ son.

“Damen.” Laurent said, taking Damen from his thoughts. Laurent's eyes were widened and cheeks flushed.

“Hello.” Damen said, almost guilty of interrupting their moment.

“I-,” Laurent seemed lost. “He's asleep now.”

Damen had the most innocent of smiles as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked up to Laurent and held his lover's cheek with one hand. Laurent was still flushed, but allowed it, closing his eyes. Damen bit his lip to contain a soft chuckle.

Watching this tiny, almost imperceptible forms of surrender from Laurent made Damen's heart warm. Laurent knew it was coming and was not surprised when Damen's lips touched his own.

“What song was that?” Damen asked, running his thumb over Laurent's cheek, sitting by his side on the bed.

Laurent blushed violently, his eyes low on their son's cheek, comfortably squished out of place against Laurent's chest. Damen waited for an answer. Unrushed, allowing Laurent to take his time.

“My brother,” Laurent started, so low Damen almost missed it. Laurent's eyes still did not find Damen's. “he sang it to me when I was a child. Before I slept.”

“It's beautiful.”

Laurent rose his head, his cheeks unbelievably red. Damen kept smiling.

“I love him too.” Damen quickly changed the subject, stroking his son's head. “I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, yet here he is.”

Laurent kissed Damen's lips softly, before his hand reached Damen's nape. Their kiss deepened, their tongues lazily entwining, unhurried. The kiss ended a few moments later, when Damen got closer and felt Théodore between them. Damen laughed against Laurent's lips.

“Remember the last time my chest directly touched yours? Because I forgot what it's like.” Damen said.

“Oh, I still have that memory.” Laurent said, lying on the bed, careful to put Théo by his side. “I might have forgotten how to fuck, though.”

Damen laughed, lying by his side, running his fingers through Laurent's hair.

“We bought him a crib. We should put it to use it once in a while.” Damen said.

“We should.” Laurent replied and there was silence for a long time. Both of them looking at their son and sharing a thought.

“That's not going to happen anytime soon, is it?” Damen asked with a chuckle.

Laurent smirked and squeezed Théodore in his arms.

“We can fuck in one of the other thousand rooms in this castle.”

 

\------------------

 

Isander had a way with children, and when asked if he would be responsible for prince Théodore whenever Damen and Laurent could not he gladly accepted. It happened a few months after Théodore's birthday and Laurent even had to explain to him why he was receiving a raise for his work. Isander did not need a raise. All he wanted was to serve his kings and to be useful. Yet, Laurent insisted.

Isander knocked on the door to the king's room after greeting Pallas and Lazar and waited until Laurent ordered him in. Théo was sitting up between his parents, playing with a rag doll, which Isander recognized as the one he had bought himself as a present for the prince. It was the only thing he had bought with his money. Théodore chewed on its head from time to time and shook it, babbling. When Isander walked in, Théo rose, standing on the bed, shouting and jumping until he fell on his bottom.

“Good morning, young prince.” Isander smiled and waved from the door.

Laurent kept lying down, his shirt and hair disheveled and eyes almost closed. Damen had sat up, holding Théo.

“Good morning, Isander. Please, come closer.” Damen said and waved at him to approach.

“Good morning, Exalted.” Isander bowed deeply and approached the bed.

“We have a meeting, so please take him to the gardens for his morning stroll.” Damen said. “Take Lydos and Atkis with you, and if you need anything, come find us. We'll be in the Meeting Hall.”

Tired of the conversation, Théodore was already stepping over Laurent, trying to reach Isander.

“I understand, Exalted.” Isander said, taking the prince into his arms.

“Take care of him, Isander.” Laurent said, lying closer to Damen.

“I will, Your Highness.”

With that promise, Isander left. It was a beautiful day and Théo was excited to be in the gardens. By now, he could walk as much as he wanted, with very few falls, which made Isander's job of keeping the prince safe much harder.

Théodore stumblingly ran around the gardens, finding things to give Isander. First he gave Isander a beautiful flower, which Isander used to decorate his own hair, much to the prince's entertainment. Now, he was picking berries and weeds, placing them in Isander's open hands. There was a new babble for every load.

“Isander.” A servant's voice caught Isander's attention. “The Exalted has finished his meeting. He called for the prince.”

“I will take him immediately. Thank you.” Isander said and turned back to Théo. “Young prince, we sh-”

During the few seconds he was unattended, Théo had crouched beside a plant, digging on the dirt. Isander rushed to him, with a handkerchief. The prince could not be handed over to his parents covered in dirt. Isander took Théo into his arms to find him chewing on something. His face was covered in the same dirt he had been digging into.

“Young prince! Open your mouth! What are you eating!?” Isander tried to gently open the prince's mouth using the handkerchief, but it was too late. Whatever it was, Théo had swallowed. “Oh no. Ohhh no. What should I do!?”

He turned to Lydos and Atkis, who exchanged looks and shrugged.

“Nothing.” said Atkis.

“Nothing!? The prince ate _dirt_ from the floor!” Isander replied.

“And I ate horse shit once. Kids do that.” Atkis continued. “Just clean him up and pretend it never happened.”

“I-” Isander was at lost. “Are you sure?”

“Fine, then. Tell the kings and let them throw you off the cliff, into the ocean.” Atkis said.

Isander cleaned up the prince and headed to the Meeting Hall.

 

\------------------

 

Laurent woke up that night hearing whimpers. He moved and Damen barely opened his eyes. Théodore's soft whimpers soon became tears.

“Shhh, shhh, what's the matter, sweetheart?” Laurent caressed his son's belly.

Théodore cried louder, grabbing Laurent's shirt. Laurent supported his own upper body with his elbow, worried.

“What's wrong with him?” Damen sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“I don't know, he's sweating. He's so warm.” Laurent touched Théodore's neck.

Théo stopped crying for a second. Then he chocked and threw up. Damen moved fast. He had seen many men on the field dying from chocking on their own blood, so he quickly held Théodore onto his belly. Laurent widened his eyes and sat up.

“We need Paschal.” Damen said.

Laurent rose and ran to the door. He wore nothing but his shirt as he opened the door, but Lazar and Pallas did not even look at him. They rushed to get Paschal, as Laurent had asked. Damen held Théodore over a vase, gently running his hands over his son's back.

Paschal came a few minutes later, along with several servants that cleaned the bed with the efficiency and discretion that was expected from them. Paschal sat on a chair, keeping Théo on his lap for examination.

“He's feverish and obviously nauseous. His palms are also slightly reddened. Has he touched anything that seemed to bother him?” Paschal said.

“I don't think so.” Laurent said. “He was with us all day, except for the morning he spent with Isander.”

“Go get Isander. Quickly.” Damen said and one of the servants headed to the door.

“I'll give him something for his stomach. I'll need towels and cold water to treat the fever.” Paschal said and Laurent nodded, ordering a servant to provide it.

Isander entered the room a few minutes later, panting.

“Isander, has Théodore touched anything usual today, under your watch?” Laurent asked.

“Touched? No, Your Highness. I don't think so.” Isander rubbed his sleepy eyes, trying to think.

“Has he eaten anything? This nausea is not normal.” Paschal asked.

“No, he-!” Isander widened his eyes and went pale as he realized it.

“What is the matter Isander?” Laurent's reaction was even more intense than Isander's. “Isander, what has he eaten!?”

Isander opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes filled with tears. 

“Isander!” Laurent shouted.

“He ate dirt!” Isander said, louder than he hoped for, the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“He ate what?” Laurent's face was expressionless, cold. His tone was like an ice stake piercing those who heard it.

“H-He was handing me berries and weeds. The servant came and told me the Exalted had finished his meeting and wished for the young prince. When I turned back- I swear, I looked away for just a second, Your Highness! When I turned back he was eating it. I tried to stop him, I swear, but he had already swallowed.”

Laurent was calm and slow as he approached Isander. Damen knew what was coming, so he stepped between them.

“It's not his fault.” Damen whispered and received a look from Laurent that would have made any other man hide under his mother's skirt.

“Get me the weeds and berried he ate.” Paschal said.

Isander looked at Damen, receiving a nod from him before rushing outside. Paschal laid Théodore on the bed, giving him a few herbs to cure his nausea. Théo cried again, refusing to drink them.

Damen tried to calm him down by sitting on the bed, with Théo in his arms, but it was useless. Laurent knelt in front of him, and held Théo's mouth open, ordering Paschal to give it to him. Damen could almost see the pain in Laurent's eyes as he forced Théo to ingest the herbs. It took a long time and Théo spat some of it, but as soon as Théo swallowed, Laurent kissed his head and caressed it. It was a silent apology. 

 

\------------------

 

Paschal spent the night in the queen's chambers. Damen lay in bed supporting his head with his hand, his eyes out of focus with sleepiness. He had convinced Laurent to sleep by letting Théo in his arms. Paschal knocked on the door and Damen rose to open it for him.

“How is the prince?” He asked.

“Fine, I think. He stopped vomiting and slept.” Damen replied.

“I see. We should let him rest. If he wakes up, please call me. I'll be ready.”

“Of course. Thank you, Paschal.” Damen sighed. “Will he be alright?”

“I can't say, Exalted. I have no way of knowing the extent of his illness. I find it difficult to believe the dirt was the problem. He must have swallowed one of the weeds or berries along with it, which caused this reaction. I will do anything I can to heal him, but I can't promise I'll be able to.”

Damen nodded and allowed Paschal to go back to sleep. He headed back to the bed and slowly sat down, careful not to wake Laurent up. He looked at Théo between his husband's arms and took a deep breath, squeezing his palms against his eyes.

He remembered his father, slowly dying on a bed. He could not bare to see his son, his one year old son, dying the same way. Damen did not even have anyone to blame. Isander took his eyes of Théo for a second. It was an honest mistake. A single second that could take away his son's life.

Damen sighed and lay on the bed. From his position, he could see a pair of blue eyes, wide open, staring at him. They accompanied a familiar yellow head and a devastated expression. Laurent extended his arm to hold Damen's hand. Damen kissed Laurent's palm and squeezed his hand.

 

\------------------

 

By morning, Théodore was breathing normally, but his temperature had not lowered. Laurent held him in his arms, changing the cloth on his forehead. As Paschal had recommended, Damen gave Théo tiny pieces of fruit, giving him plenty of time to chew and swallow. Théo was no longer throwing up, but his occasional whimpers continued. Damen used Théo's toys to make up a little story, making different voices and shaking the doll close to Théo's face. It did not make him laugh, as it usually would, but it helped to calm him down.

 

\------------------

 

It took a little over week for Théo to heal completely. Laurent's mood was far better, seeing his son running around the white halls of the castle. Inside the Throne Room, where they had requested privacy, Laurent even dared to play catch with his son, running around like a child. For a moment, Damen could perfectly picture a young Laurent, running away from Auguste, who tried to catch him.

After many exhaustive hours of running, Laurent – who, at this point, had already removed his doublet – sat on his throne, watching Damen play with Théo. Damen would throw him in the air and catch him again, or sway him back and forth between his own legs.

“Do you barbarians ever get tired?” Laurent asked.

“Sometimes.” Damen laughed, holding his son and taking him to Laurent. “Here. Go bother your papa. He seems far too relaxed.”

Damen and Laurent always used the Veretian word for “father” when addressing Laurent, and the Akielon one to talk about Damen. Laurent gave his son a tight hug and felt his own heart beat faster as Théodore reciprocated, wrapping his tiny arms around Laurent's neck.

“We should discuss the matter of Isander.” Damen said, sitting on the oak arm of Laurent's throne.

“What is there to discuss?” Laurent's tone was cold.

“Should we allow him to care for our son again? Should we punish him somehow?”

“No and yes. There. It's discussed.”

“Laurent...” Damen sighed.

“Damen, I will not allow him to care for my son again. Last time he did, my son almost _died_.”

“Laurent, he ate dirt! It was an accident. It was a single second and a mishap.” Damen argued.

“And there will not be another. I suggest you get him out of this castle before I come across him, or he'll face a fate much worse than being released of his duties.” Laurent said.

“Laurent, he spent the week sleeping on the floor outside our door. He loves Théodore.”

“Damen, I'll not entrust my son to him.”

“Stop calling him yours.” Damen rose. “He is _our_ son. I'm aware you like to be in control of things, but don't act like every decision about Théodore should be made by you. I'm as much his father as you are, and I'm here to discuss things with you. But you clearly have no arguments.”

Laurent was silent. If Damen was not so irritated, he might have felt a certain pride in witnessing the rare sight of Laurent's lips forming a line, battling to stay closed as his brain worked, trying to find the right words to retort.

Laurent looked away and rose, heading to the door, holding his son in his arms. Damen sighed, thinking he would leave, but he did not. Laurent slowly walked up to the middle of the room, as if taking a stroll and returned to where Damen stood after a moment.

“I apologize. It was selfish of me to address him as my son.” Laurent said, his blue eyes meeting Damen's for a second.

“It's alright. I'm your husband, your lover, your partner. I'll never do anything to hurt you. But it's not fair to punish Isander like this, and you know it.” Damen held Laurent's hand.

“I was scared.” Laurent admitted, after a long silence. “If something were to happen to him...”

“Then it will.” Damen felt a sting in his heart just by saying the words. He could see they had the same effect on Laurent from the way his eyes widened. “We can't protect him from all danger. If we were to do so, he would have to live inside a single room, with nothing inside, for the rest of his life.”

“We must protect him as we can, but we must also let him learn things on his own. He fell many times, but eventually he learned how to walk, did he not? I understand he's a very important child for this kingdom and, most of all, for us. But we can't keep him absolutely safe all the time, or he won't have a life. He'll never be happy living like this.” Damen continued.

Laurent listened, his eyes focused on Théo. An innocent pair of big blue eyes stared back at Laurent. It was as if they were asking for a kiss, which Laurent gladly granted, keeping his lips against Théodore's forehead.

“You're right.” Laurent said, finally turning to face Damen.

Damen smiled and there was another long silence.

“I truly appreciate your guidance and support.”

Damen laughed and Laurent flushed.

“What!?”

“You sound like a diplomat agreeing on a treaty.” Damen explained.

“Well, isn't marriage a treaty? An alliance for the rest of our lives?” Laurent asked in his usual tone.

“That's true.” Damen smiled. “I love you.”

“Wove you.”

It was not Laurent who replied. It was a soft, high-pitched voice, coming from Laurent's chest.

“Did he just...?” Laurent asked, his eyes widened.

“He spoke.” Damen was baffled, glancing back and forth between Laurent and Théo. “He said 'love you'! He said it!”

Damen felt his heart fill with pride. Not only his son's first words had been in Akielon, - something Damen was sure Nikandros would _never_ let go - but they had been so meaningful. As if Théo truly understood their meaning.

That day, every single person who met with the kings was well informed of the prince's vast intelligence and kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! It took me a while to write this last scene. I tried to keep them in character as much as possible, I hope it was okay. And that the end wasn't too abrupt. (?) (;ω;) 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! (´ヮ`)ﾉ  
> I just want to thank you all for your kind comments and kudos on this story. They make me want to give my all and it has been really fun to write this!  
> Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Traveling was never easy. It took a long time, the Akielon heat was unbearable during summer and the chariot was uncomfortable. Damen and Laurent had scheduled to stay one week in the summer castle. Their son had just turned three years old and taking him to play on the beach was long overdue.

Laurent wore a chiton as he instructed the servants and guards with the provisions as they arrived. Damen, on the other hand, stood still from a few meters away, staring at Laurent's legs. Seeing his husband wearing a chiton was tempting enough, but every time Théo slid down, it forced Laurent to pull him back up, making his clothes even shorter. Damen approached and saw their son still sleeping with his head on Laurent's shoulder. One of his arms had fallen to his side and the other was squeezed between their bodies, so Théo could suck on his thumb.

Though Laurent stood still under a shadow, a drop of sweat ran down his temple. It was not an usual sight for him and Damen loved to see it. Laurent, in Akielon clothes, sweating from the Akielon heat like Damen himself had been so many times. And if that was not enough, holding their child. There was a beautiful contrast in the places where their skins met, which Damen could spend an eternity admiring.

“You look gorgeous.” Damen said.

Laurent turned to face him as if Damen had offended his whole kingdom.

“If you came here to make a fool of me...”

“No! I mean it! I think you look beautiful like this.” Damen said, holding Laurent's hand in his.

Laurent turned his face away, as if Damen had said nothing, but squeezed his husband's hand, pulling him inside the castle.

“Would you take him? He's getting heavy.” Laurent asked.

“Of course.” Damen took Théo with care, doing his best not to wake him up. Théo's hand slipped out of his mouth, but he did not wake.

They headed to their chambers to rest. Damen lay on the bed, reclining against the headboard and running his fingers through Théo's hair. Laurent opened the door to the balcony, feeling the ocean breeze entering the room. Laurent's chiton fluttered along with his hair and Damen could not take his eyes away. The whole moment felt like a dream.

“What?” Laurent asked, approaching the bed.

“Nothing.” Damen said, trying not so hard to hide his foolish smile.

Damen took Laurent's hand, bringing his arm to rest on top of Théo. Looking up close, he could notice Théo's skin was a tad darker than his own, but with Laurent's marble skin touching theirs, the difference became imperceptible.

“I like the color of your skin.” Laurent said in a whisper, leaning against Damen.

“And I like yours.” Damen said. “Specially when it's like this, touching ours.”

Damen waited for an answer that never came. It did not surprise him, though. He knew Laurent all too well.

“We should wake him up, or he won't sleep at night.” Laurent said, sitting up and pulling Théo closer to himself, to wake him up.

Damen pretended not to see the corner of Laurent's mouth rise.

 

\------------------

 

The next day, they arrived on the beach by horse. Only Pallas and Lazar accompanied them, so there was no need for a chariot. After dismounting, Damen carried Théo on his shoulders and Laurent followed them until they reached the sand.

Laurent stopped, letting his feet dig into the sand, registering the new sensation. Having spent most of his life in Vere, away from the shore, this was a completely new experience. Damen turned and watched as Laurent closed his eyes, an almost imperceptible smile decorating his expression. Damen approached, lowering himself to kiss his husband.

“This feels good.” Laurent said.

“Doesn't it? Come put your feet in the water.” Damen offered his hand and Laurent took it.

They approached the water. Théo sat on Damen's shoulder, grabbing his father's hair. Laurent felt the water touch his feet and took two instinctive steps back.

“Cold.” Laurent said and Damen let out a rich laugh.

“And what do you think, Théo?” Damen took Théo by the arms, putting him down.

Théo held tight onto Damen's arm, somehow hesitant. The first wave threatened, but did not reach him. His tiny toes clenched along with his grip on Damen's arm. The second came, not long after, and hit him, covering his tiny feet despite the small steps he had taken back. Théo shouted, let go of Damen and ran away from the water, laughing. When the third wave came, Théo ran towards it and jumped, splashing water everywhere. Any distress he might have faced previously was gone and he now ran away from the waves, just to meet them as they retreated.

“Well, what about you, Your Highness?” Damen asked, undressing and throwing his clothes far from the ocean.

“I'd rather keep my clothes on for now.” Laurent said. “But you two go ahead.”

Damen could not say he was surprised. Even after living in Akielos for five years, and wearing chitons during the summer, Laurent was still Veretian and being completely naked in public was not as comfortable as it was for Damen. Yet, Damen noticed Laurent had absolutely no problem with _his_ nakedness, considering the way Laurent's eyes roamed his body once before Damen pulled Théo closer.

“Do you want to go into the water? With father?” Damen asked.

“Yes!” Théo rose his hands in excitement.

“Great!” Damen smiled and removed Théo's chiton, throwing it close to his own.

Damen held Théo in his arms as he walked into the water. Théo held tightly onto his neck, shouting and squirming whenever the waves hit him. His legs moved uncontrollably. Damen reached a point where the water hit his stomach and chatted with Théo about the ocean and its legends.

When Damen turned around to talk to Laurent, he found his husband naked. Completely and absolutely naked, letting the waves hit his knees. The water hit Théo for a single second before Damen pulled him back up. Damen did not let go, but his arms seemed to have lost all strength for a moment. Théo was surprised, but laughed right after, innocently judging it to be some kind of play.

Laurent approached them, the water hitting his chest. Théo jumped into Laurent's arms, hugging him. Damen looked around and noticed Pallas and Lazar were facing the opposite direction, backs turned to the ocean.

“Papa!” Théo used the Veretian word to address Laurent, as usual, but continued in Akielon: “Father threw me in the water!”

Damen slid his hand across his own face, and Théo laughed. Laurent smirked, stroking his son's cheek.

“I saw that.” Laurent said, not to Théo.

“Son, why don't we try swimming, huh? Like this, watch.”

Damen skillfully avoided Laurent's gaze, swimming close to them. After one or two laps around Laurent, Damen rose and pushed his hair back, wiping the water from his eyes. Laurent stared, again.

“Do you want to try it?” Damen asked and Théo enthusiastically nodded.

Damen let Théo lay on the surface, holding him up by the chest. After some practice, Théo still could not stay on the surface on his own, but he had mastered the leg kicking technique. Théo was proud of himself and so were his parents.

 

\------------------

 

The sun was about to set when they decided to head home. Théo held Damen and Laurent's hands, swinging himself between them. Pallas and Lazar made sure their horses were ready for them. While Damen and Laurent mounted, Théo did not miss his chance for a chat.

“Lazar, I swimmed! I kicked my legs really hard!” Théo said, in Akielon, holding Lazar's hand.

Lazar looked at Pallas, confused. Pallas thought for a second before rotating his arms, simulating swimming.

“Oh! Swim!” Lazar said in Veretian. “Good job, Your Highness.”

“It's 'swam', Théodore.” Laurent said from the top of his horse, approaching. His skin was as pink as his lips.

Lazar brought the young prince to his father. Laurent placed Théo between his legs and held him with one hand, losing none of his usual grace. In fact, Théo somehow seemed to fit perfectly into that picture. Now that the was starting the transition from toddler to child, Théodore seemed to be acquiring some of the grace his Veretian father possessed.

 

\------------------

 

By the time they reached the castle, Théodore was sleeping. Laurent handed him over to a waiting Isander, with an undetectable frown. Damen, the only one to notice, approached him.

“Is everything alright?” Damen whispered.

“My skin is burning.” Laurent replied, but his composure was such that the answer seemed to have come from someone else.

“Should I call for Paschal?”

“No. No, I'll be fine. Just don't touch me.” Laurent said and they headed to the baths.

The warm water felt like fire against Laurent's skin. Damen emptied the bathtub and bathed Laurent in cold water, washing his body with the delicacy he would use while handling a flower. Laurent simply stood still, his skin red and painful.

The only thing more painful than the shower was Théo, grabbing onto Laurent's arms, not wanting to sleep alone. Ever since he was an infant, Laurent and Damen had allowed their son to sleep in their bed, and trying to explain to a three year old child that he should learn to sleep by himself, in another room, was quite the challenge.

“Théodore, you're a big boy now. Your papa and I will be right next door, there is no need to be scared.” Damen argued.

“But I don't want it, father! I want to sleep with you.” Théo replied, lying on his bed, holding onto Laurent's arm.

“Son, everything will be fine. Don't worry. We'll leave the door open, alright? You'll be able to see our room. Now, father knows you'll be very brave and sleep in your bed like a grown up.”

Damen said and held Laurent's hand. Laurent rose.

“No, papa! Please don't leave me.” Théo teared up.

Laurent froze. Damen kept holding his hand, trying to keep their composure. Laurent looked into Damen's eyes and, for once, Damen knew exactly what they were saying, as if Laurent had actually said the words. “I'm staying.”.

Damen wanted to stop him, but he could not. Laurent gave Théo a painful hug before sitting on a chair by the side of the bed. Damen lay on the bed itself, holding Théodore so he would not fall off. Laurent held Théo's hand, sitting uncomfortably on the chair.

 

\------------------

 

After a week away – in which Laurent spent half of it in bed, suffering from his sunburns – Damen and Laurent travelled back to the capital. Laurent returned to his chambers after a long bath. He greeted Lydos and Atkis, who had just arrived for their shift and entered. Damen was on all fours, crawling, with his son sitting on his back.

“Faster, horsie! Faster!” Théodore jumped.

“No jumping! Horses won't move if you keep jumping on them.” Damen laughed and continued his play.

Laurent smirked. This opportunity was too good to let pass.

“Oh my, what a giant animal we have here.” Laurent said and Damen snorted.

“It's not an animal, papa. It's a horsie!” Théodore explained.

“Well, horses are animals, sweetheart. And this one is a very good one.”  
Laurent approached slowly. His movements gracious and thoroughly thought. He stood next to Damen's hips, threw a leg on top of him and sat down behind Théo.

“Ow! Get off!” Damen laughed. “You're too heavy.”

“Heavy? That's absurd.” Laurent said, impersonating a perfect stereotype of a Veretian courtier. “Look at these strong arms and legs. I'm sure you can move just fine.”

Laurent leaned in to touch Damen's arms, squeezing their son between them.

“Papa, you're squeezing me!” Théo said.

“I'm doing no such thing.” Laurent said and put a little more weight over Théo by placing his hands on Damen's stomach, embracing them both.

“Yes, you are, papa!” Théo laughed.

Damen was exhausted, but he gathered all his strength and moved forward. He moved just a little, with great effort before falling to the side with a grunt. Laurent held Théo in his arms as they fell with a loud thump.

“Ugh. That is a terrible horse.” Laurent mocked, lying on the ground with Théo over him. “I think you should punish him. With tickles.”

Théo smirked and rushed towards Damen, who ran away. Laurent rose and sat on the bed to watch them. Damen ran around the room for a while before turning to face Théo. Damen had a smirk on his face and walked slowly towards his son. Realizing their roles had reversed, Théo widened his eyes and ran away, shouting, being followed by Damen. Théo got on the bed, hiding in Laurent's arms.

“Save me, papa!” Théo laughed.

“Of course I'll save you. Come here.” Laurent protected Théo with his own body, by lying on his side.

Damen laughed and lay behind Laurent, kissing his shoulder.

“Listen, Théo. We should start getting ready for bed.” Damen said.

“No, father! I don't want to!” Théo frowned.

“But we have to, sweetheart. Everyone needs to rest. Your father and I will also be sleeping soon.” Laurent said, pushing Théo's locks back.

“But, papa-!” Théo pouted.

“Listen, we can play more tomorrow. But now it's time for bed.” Damen said, taking Théo into his arms.

Laurent rose, following Damen to Théo's room. It took a long time, as usual, but Théo ended up sleeping. After putting their son to bed in the next room, Damen bathed and went back to his chambers. Damen's hair was still damp as he entered. Laurent sat on the bed, reading. Damen sat by his side, leaning against the headboard.

Laurent put his book down on the nightstand. His movements calm and unhurried, as he took the liberty of straddling Damen's waist, putting his weight where their bodies met. Damen took a moment to understand what was happening.

“You're quite... Daring today.” Damen said.

“Is that a complaint?” Laurent rose an eyebrow.

“Not at all.” Damen smiled and gently held Laurent's waist.

Laurent smiled softly and crooked his head to the side, allowing – or requesting – Damen to kiss his neck. Damen noticed how Laurent's breath became unease, how he seemed to melt under his ministrations. He felt proud and excited.

“Take me.” Laurent whispered in his ear.

“Politeness?” Damen mocked.

“'Fuck me' holds a different meaning to you.” Laurent explained, his hands around Damen's neck. “Tonight I wish to be _taken_. Tonight, I want you to be selfish.”

Damen understood the meaning of those words. Whenever they made love, he would always focus on Laurent, on his pleasure, on his happiness. And that pleasured Damen. But today Laurent wished for something different. Today, Damen was to take him, in any way he wished, for Laurent would trust him and surrender himself.

That thought ran through Damen's mind for a single second and he felt his whole body react. His cheeks were flushed as a smile rose on his lips.

“I see the idea of my surrender satisfies you,” Laurent said, his hips slowly grinding against Damen's. “King Damianos.”

Laurent knew what he had done. Damen's name and title were never used in vain. Much less by Laurent, who knew he had unleashed a beast he did not need to fear. One that would take him, like he wanted, but that would never hurt him. He was willing to give himself to it.

And when it came to Laurent, Damen would always do as he was requested. The shackles in his wrist had lost their original meaning a long time ago, but Laurent's wishes were still orders to Damen's ears. Not forced upon him, but orders he _wished_ to comply. And would gladly do so.

Damen was careful and caring, as he would always be. Pain was not something he enjoyed, much less inflicting it. Yet he took Laurent with intensity and the right amount of roughness.

Laurent requested nothing. Laurent did nothing. He simply allowed Damen to have him and it felt amazing. He forced himself not to think, not to hesitate. It was impossible to stop completely, but he tried his best. And so did Damen. Enough to make Laurent whisper lewd confessions and call his name over and over again. Laurent had his eyes closed and his head hanging off the edge of the bed as he called: _Damianos. Damianos. Damianos._

Another moment. It was all Laurent needed. But he did not get it. Damen suddenly haulted, completely frozen on top of him. Laurent rose his head and opened his eyes. Damen was pale, staring at the wall behind Laurent. Laurent's head felt heavy, so he let go, his eyes still open.

And he understood.

Another set of perfect blue eyes stared back at them. Big, innocent eyes, much different from his own, staring at him, upside down. Laurent froze as well, his mind trying to think, but he could not. Nothing, absolutely nothing came to Laurent's mind besides shame and panic.

“W-What are you doing here,” Damen started, his voice weak. “Théodore?”

“What are you doing?” Théo asked.

His innocent, childish voice felt like an arrow to his parents heart.

“We are,” Damen hesitated. “...Playing.”

“Oh.” Théo seemed surprised. “I want to play too!”

“No!” Laurent held back a hiss feeling his and Damen's body disconnect, as he turned around and knelt on the bed.

“It's time for bed.” Laurent continued, covering his waist with the sheets.

“But you're still awake!” Théo pouted.

“We're adults. Adults can stay up for as long as they wish.” Laurent explained.

“And when do I become adult?” Théo asked, crossing his arms over the bed, placing his chin on his tiny hands.

“You need to turn twenty one.”

Damen leaned back against the headboard, amused from watching Laurent discuss these matter with their son as two Veretian aristocrats would. The language also helped in that aspect, since Laurent had not even considered speaking in Akielon.

“How much is twenty one? I'm already this much!” Théo held three fingers in front of him.

Laurent rose all of Théo's fingers, reached behind himself to pull Damen closer making him raise a single finger and rose all of his own.

“This much.” Laurent said.

Théo looked at all the fingers. Then at Laurent. Then at Damen. Then at the fingers again.

“Papa, you're so old!”

Damen laughed. A lot. Enough for him to fall on the bed. Laurent's jaw twitched. Half of him wanted to laugh, the other refused to lose this battle to a three year old. He took a deep breath.

“Well, go back to bed now.” Laurent said.

“No, papa. I want to play with you!” Théo said.

“No, Théodore. It's time to sleep.”

“Can I sleep with you, then?” Théo asked.

“No, Théodore. You must sleep in your bed.” Laurent said.

“But I don't want to! It's too big for me!” Théodore pledged.

“There is no such thing as too big.” Laurent said.

“Oh, I'm glad.” Damen whispered and earned a deadly stare from Laurent.

“Anyone would love to have a large, comfortable bed such as yours. Now go back to your room.” Laurent said, ignoring his husband.

“Alright...” Théodore left for his room with a pout and Laurent sighed.

Damen hugged Laurent from behind, kissing his nape. Laurent leaned against him, holding his hands.

“Was I too harsh?” Laurent asked.

“We need to be a little harsh during this transition. He needs to learn how to sleep alone.” Damen said. “You were great. I would have failed.”

“That's because you're a softhearted fool.” Laurent explained and turned back to kiss Damen. “And, despite what I told Théodore, I'll inform you that there _is_ such thing as too big.”

Laurent added and pushed Damen away.

“I don't recall hearing any complaints about it.” Damen laughed and pulled Laurent closer, to sit on his lap.

Laurent rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled by Damen. They were silent for a while before Laurent broke it.

“Today was,” He hesitated for a moment. “Quite pleasing.”

“More than usual?” Damen chuckled.

“Yes.” Laurent did not look back at him, but kept his eyes focused on Damen's hand, on top of his own. “It was strange to give up control, but it felt good. You seemed inspired.”

Damen laughed and Laurent joined him.

“Too bad we didn't get to finish.” Damen said.

“There is still time before dawn.” Laurent said, moving his hips back.

Damen chuckled and lowered himself slowly, taking Laurent with him.

“Wait. Lock the door.” Laurent said. “We can't take any more chances.”

Damen rose and locked the door as delicately as he could, trying not to make a sound. He returned to the bed to find Laurent leaning against the pillows. Damen kissed him and placed his knees on each side of Laurent's body. Laurent's lean fingers combed Damen's messy hair. His right hand followed Damen's neck and reached his chest, stroking it, feeling the beat of Damen's heart. His hand did not lower until Damen moved against him. The room was starting to get warmer again when they heard a whimper.

“Fatheeer...”

Damen let out a breath, sitting back on his heels. Laurent flimsily touched Damen's chest in a gesture of defeat and threw his head back with a grunt.

“This is going to be one of those nights, isn't it?” Damen said.

“Yes, it is.” Laurent replied.

“I'll go.” Damen kissed him and rose from the bed, grabbing his chiton from the floor as he headed to Théo's bedroom.

 

\------------------

 

The next day, they met Nikandros on their way back to the dining hall. Théo was thrilled and rushed in his direction.

“Nikandos!”

“Welcome home, Exalted.” Nikandros crouched and hugged Théo. “And I've told you it's Nikandros.”

“Nikandos.” Théo repeated.

“Dros.”

“Dwos.”

“Nevermind.” Nikandros rolled his eyes and gently pinched the sides of Théo's body, making him laugh.

“How are you, my friend?” Damen asked with a smile. “I see the kingdom has not collapsed during our absence.”

“Not yet.” Nikandros chuckled.

“Nikandos, will you play with me?” Théo interrupted, holding Nikandros face and forcing him to look at him.

“Huh-sure, Exalted.” Nikandros looked at Damen, in confusion.

Damen shrugged and Laurent remained as aloof as ever. Since the kings were tired and Nikandros had finished his duties for the day, Théo's wishes were granted.

Nikandros took Théo by the hand and they discussed very important matters like how cold the ocean was, how Théo saw a cloud with the shape of a horse and how his Papa's skin got red as a tomato and then peeled like an onion. Nikandros had to admit he fully enjoyed the last one.

“Nikandos,” Théo started. “What's 'Damianos'?”

“Wha-? Damianos is your father, my prince.”

“No, it's not.” Théo said, matter-of-factly.

“And what do you think your father's name is?” Nikandros asked.

Théo pondered for a moment.

“Damen?” He answered.

“That's short for Damianos. As Théo is short for Théodore.”

“Ohh.” Théo nodded in understanding. “Then what's short for Laurent?”

The words “manipulative Veretian coxcomb” reached the tip of Nikandros tongue, ready to come out, but he decided otherwise. Nikandros simply smiled kindly and replied:

“Laurent is short enough. It doesn't need a short version.”

“I see.” Théo said.

“Why do you ask, my prince?” Nikandros asked, taking Théo to the gardens by the hand.

“Yesterday papa and father were playing and papa kept saying that. It's weird because father was really close.”

“He said your father's name? Were they discussing something?” Nikandros furrowed his brows.

“What's 'discussing'?” Théo asked.

“Huh-Talking. Were they telling each other what to do or-...?”

“No. Papa just kept saying this and making a funny face.”

“A funny face?” Nikandros let out a breath of mockery. He was not aware the King of Vere had any other expression besides constipated.

“Yes. Like this.” Théo scrunched his face and Nikandros could not hold back his laugh.

“The King of Vere made that face? What was your father even doing?”

“I told you, they were _playing_ , Nikandos.”

Théodore rolled his eyes as if he had been trying to teach a very stupid toddler something very simple. His condescending expression reminded Nikandros of Laurent so much Nikandros had to gather all his might not to tell a three year old to fuck off.

“Well, what was that game like?”

“Hmm... They were naked.”

Nikandros went pale realizing what was happening and did not dare to look at Théodore.

“And father was holding papa down. Papa talked about a chicken, but I didn't see any.”

“A... Chicken?” Nikandros placed his fingers on his temple, trying – and not trying at the same time – to imagine what kind of bizarre Veretian sexual activity could involve a chicken.

“Yes. The boy chicken that wears a little red hat.”

Nikandros had no idea what Théo could possibly be talking about. It was a chicken that wore a hat. And it was a boy. A boy chicken with a red hat.

“Do you mean a cock?” Nikandros asked.

“Yes!”

“The King of Vere wanted-” Nikandros tried to form sentences. “When-Wha-What exactly did your father say?”

Nikandros crouched beside Théo. It was like a nightmare.

“Father said nothing.” Théo said.

“Your... Papa, what did he say?” The Veretian word burned Nikandros's proud Akielon tongue.

“He said he liked it.” Théo said.

“Well, no surprises there.” Nikandros sighed, squeezing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. “Théodore, I-That game is-”

Nikandros did not deserve this. He did not want that image in his mind. He did not need to picture that every time he saw his king. And, above all, he did not want to hear that from a three year old.

“How about-how about we forget about this?” Nikandros asked, wishing he could do just that.

“But I want to play!” Théo pouted and stomped his foot on the ground.

“How about we play a different game? You see, when your father and I were children we used to climb trees! How about that?”

Théo looked at a nearby tree and all his thoughts about the previous conversation were completely gone. Nikandros envied the perks of being three years old, such as being able to erase the terrible image of his best friend and king mounting his obnoxious Veretian lover. For the sake of his young prince, Nikandros smiled. Yet his soul wept.

 

\------------------

 

It was night when Nikandros returned the prince to his parent's. Laurent and Damen sat by the table, playing cards inside their room when Nikandros was allowed in. Théo rushed to them, trying to take a peek on the table by holding its corner and standing on his tip toes.

“Hello, son. Did Nikandros take good care of you?” Damen asked.

“Yes, father! Nikandos is fun!”

“That's very good to hear, sweetheart.” Laurent said and grabbed Théo, allowing him to sit on his lap.

“May I have a word in private with you, Exalted? Something personal.” Nikandros requested and Damen nodded.

They headed together to another room close by. Nikandros took a deep breath and Damen waited.

“Exalted, I humbly request a five minutes period of complete and absolute immunity, limited to this room.” Nikandros said.

“You request what?” Damen rose an eyebrow.

“Complete and absolute immunity, no matter what I do.” Nikandros remained still, his hands behind his back.

“...Nikandros are you announcing a crime?”

Nikandros thought for a second.

“Technically, yes.” He answered.

“Are you going to steal something?”

“I will not.”

“Are you going to try to kill me?” Damen thought it to be absurd, but Nikandros request was just that.

“I will not.”

Damen was perplex.

“Are you going to betray me in any way?”

“I will not.”

“This immunity will be valid inside this room, and this room alone, for the next five minutes, yes?”

“That is correct, Exalted.”

Damen was curious.

“Very well, then. It's granted.”

Nikandros bowed, took off his sword, calmly placed it over the table and approached Damen. Then, in the blink of an eye, he moved.

“You! Fucking! Blond! Loving! Perverted! Fool!” Nikandros punched Damen's arm in every pause.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Damen was caught off guard and simply backed away, clenching his arms for protection. “What is the matter with you!? You said you wouldn't hurt me!”

“No. I said I wouldn't _kill_ you.” Nikandros said, matter-of-factly, his index finger right in front of Damen's face. “Are you aware your son has asked me about a chicken with a red hat today!?”

“He asked what?” Damen furrowed his brows.

“Oh, you don't know? Why, my dear friend, allow me to explain. _It's your fucking cock_!” Nikandros shouted that last sentence. “Which your son saw your fucking pompous yellow-head Veretian lover begging for!”

“First of all, Laurent did not beg. He simply made a comment about it.” Damen stated and Nikandros honestly considered defenestrating Damen. “Second, it was an accident. It was simply a terrible time for him to become able to reach the doorknob.”

“Why won't you two lock the door when you're fucking!? You have a child now!”

“Nikandros, what part of 'he did not know how to open doors' has misguided you?”

“Fine. Then why is he talking about it like it was a game? Now he wants to participate!”

“Look, if you think we are such bad parents, please go ahead and raise my child. You seem to know all about them after spending, what, an afternoon with him?”

Nikandros sighed, but did not apologize.

“Tell me, what could I have possibly said to him?”

“I don't know. Ask the king of Vere.” Nikandros said.

“Will you stop-!”

“I'm serious. I'm not... _Fond_ of him, but he possesses a great mind. He might be able to think of something.”

Damen's anger left him, being replaced by pride. Nikandros, one of the most traditional and stubborn Akielons Damen had ever known, was complimenting Damen's Veretian husband. He could not hold back his smile.

“Take that disgusting smile out of your face or I'll smack you again. And lock. Your. Fucking. Doors.” Nikandros said, taking back his sword. “Now that my immunity is over, may I be excused, Exalted?”

“You are excused.” Damen said and left the room after Nikandros.

 

\------------------

 

Damen returned to his chambers to find Laurent alone.

“Where's Théo?”

“Sleeping. In his room.” Laurent rose his eyebrows in a demonstration of victory. “Please send my regards to Nikandros for spending all his energy like that.”

“I will.” Damen chuckled. “Can we talk?”

Laurent rose an eyebrow and sat in front of him on the bed.

“Sure.” Laurent replied.

“It's about Théodore. We should come up with a new explanation for our... Activities.” Damen said.

“You mean the sex?” Laurent smirked.

“Yes, Laurent. That. Nikandros made a point today,” Damen pretended not to notice Laurent rolling his eyes and continued. “and I agree with him. Théodore thinks our love-making is a play and, well, he's talking about it.”

“Very well, but what should we say?” Laurent raised his knee, using it as a support for his chin, wrapping his arms around his leg.

“I was hoping we could think of a solution together.” Damen said, sitting cross-legged in front of Laurent.

There was silence as they thought.

“What if we tell him the truth, without telling him the truth?” Laurent suggested.

“What do you mean?” Damen asked.

“Well, we could tell him it's a play that is very private and only married couples can participate. And teach him to keep his adorable little mouth shut.”

“That sounds plausible.” Damen smiled.

There was a long silence before Laurent spoke:

“What did he say?”

“Théodore? Well, apparently he mentioned your comment about... My body.” Damen bit his lower lip to contain his conceited smile.

“Only to Nikandros?” Laurent asked.

“Yes.”

Laurent had a satisfied smile. Damen lost his and rolled his eyes. It was like taking care of three children. Théo being the oldest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys have enjoyed reading the silliness with Nikandros as much as I enjoyed writing. lol I wanted to make a scene like that from the beginning. I hope it was fun!
> 
> Thank you for reading! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! (´ヮ`)ﾉ  
> Once again let me thank you for all the comments! Your support is truly appreciated!!!
> 
> Phew, this was the hardest chapter for me to write, because a lot of things happen! I just hope everything made sense together. (´ｰ｀)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it! Here's chapter 4! ヾ(*´∀｀*)

Damen woke up with a foolish smile decorating his face. He rose from his bed and peeked into Théodore's room. His son still slept, holding his doll with one hand and sucking on the thumb from the other. Damen's heart felt warm at the sight.

“You're going to look at him like this for the rest of the day, aren't you?” Said the raspy voice of Laurent.

Laurent lay lazily on their bed, wearing nothing but his white shirt. His legs slightly bent and arms thrown into the pillows. Damen approached the bed and sat down beside Laurent.

“It's his first practice for the Okton.” Damen said and smiled even more.

“Yes, Damen, I'm aware.” Laurent said. “Please don't be too rough. He's barely four.”

“I won't. Besides, I'll simply teach him the basic techniques. We're going to have fun.”

“Try not to slip on the oil and fall on top of him with your giant body. You'll kill him.” Laurent said and touched Damen's arm with a smirk.

“I'll do my best.” Damen laughed, kissing Laurent. “Should we wake him up?”

Laurent rolled his eyes.

“Go.” Laurent said, pointing at the door.

 

\------------------

 

Damen introduced Théodore to the arena, showed him the instruments and explained the rules. Théo seemed more interested in running around the arena than actually practicing. Laurent watched them from the bleachers, under a shadow, eating grapes and drinking water.

Damen brought the oil and called for Théodore. Laurent paused, holding one grape to his lips and carefully watching Damen.

“So, remember when father taught you how to wash yourself, in the baths? It's pretty much the same, but with oil.”

Théodore peeked inside to look at the oil, touching it with his index finger.

“Here, I'll show you.”

Damen rose, removing his chiton and Laurent shifted on his seat, pushing a grape between his lips and feeling the effects of the Akielon heat. (Or the heat his Akielon husband provoked on his body, same thing.) Damen, innocently unaware, oiled himself up and crouched to help Théo.

“Alright, now you try it.”

Théo scrunched his face as he dipped his hand in oil. He slapped his chest with it, spreading on his belly. Laurent – who had returned to his original position and was no longer sweating under his clothes – watched his son with amusement. Théo was so adorable Laurent simply wanted to squeeze him into his own arms.

Damen, on the other hand, watched Théo with pride. He thought of his father and wondered if he had felt the same way when he taught Damen how to fight. The warm and satisfying feeling of passing your knowledge to your child and witnessing a small Akielon warrior in the making.

“Done!” Théo said, spreading his arms to show Damen his good work.

“Very good.” Damen chuckled, kneeling on the ground. “Now, this is the initial position. You have to push me, trying to throw me to the ground.”

Théo widened his eyes for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows, focused. He knew Damen was much bigger and stronger than he was, but that would not keep him from trying.

Damen gave the order and Théo pushed, a little too strong, ending up hitting his nose on Damen's shoulder. He backed away, profusely pouting and ready to cry.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying? You did good! It was a very strong push!”

“But it hurts...” Théo said.

“It hurts? But you're such a strong boy! I'm sure you can shake that pain away. Give it a try. Shake it away. Like this.” Damen shook his own head.

Théo's pout became a soft giggle and he vigorously shook his head.

“See? Feel better?” Damen asked.

Théo nodded and smiled. Damen fondled his son's hair and returned to position. They practiced a few more times. Damen was patient and turned the learning into a game. He would take advantage of Théo's lack of defense to tickle him or run after him whenever he tried to escape. He even let Théo push him to the ground a few times. He did not plan to train Théodore, it was not the time yet. He simply wanted his son to learn how to enjoy the sport.

After having exercised for hours, Damen lay on the ground, playing and talking to Théo, who lay on his chest. Théo supported his chin on his hand, while the other touched Damen's scar.

“What's this?” Théo innocently asked.

“It's a scar.” Damen pushed Théo's hair back. “It's a mark left when you get hurt. It represents your opponent's strength, left in you.”

“Someone hurt you?” Théo asked. His tone was a mix of worry and curiosity.

“Yes. A great warrior leaves a mark in his opponents during real battles.”

Théo frowned. This matters were yet too hard for him to fully understand. Damen sat up, keeping Théo on his lap, focused on Damen's scar. When Damen looked at the bleachers, Laurent's eyes were cold and dull. He had stopped eating.

 

\------------------

 

By night, Damen put Théodore to sleep by telling him stories about the great warriors of Akielos. Théo listened to him intently, sucking on his thumb and hugging his doll. Théo's eyes fought to stay open for a long time before he finally succumbed to sleep.

Damen went back to his room to find Laurent reading. He lay by his husband's side and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Are you satisfied, my Akielon Warrior?” Laurent mocked, putting his book down.

“I apologize for stealing our son for myself today.” Damen said.

“Oh, it's alright. I know this is important to you. Besides, I shall have my revenge when we arrive in Chastillon.” Laurent smirked, turning to face Damen.

“It's strange. I feel like he's all grown up, but then he says something silly, or sucks his thumb to sleep and I remember just how young he actually is.” Damen said, leaning against Laurent's chest.

“That's true.” Laurent said, running his fingers through Damen's hair. “He asked about your scar, didn't he?”

Damen sighed, looking down at Laurent's stomach.

“I don't believe we can hide this for long. We should start contemplating our means of telling this story.” Laurent said.

“I wouldn't know where to begin.” Damen admitted.

Laurent pulled Damen closer and kissed his head.

“For now let's sleep on it.”

 

\------------------

 

Théo's first night at camp was difficult. For his parents. Théo was a calm child, but he was four nonetheless. One single moment of distraction after his bath and he ran away, naked and climbed on a tree.

All the soldiers watched in amusement, from afar, as Laurent frustratedly stood under the tree, watching Damen chase Théodore through the branches. Damen noticed Théo had been using Nikandros's climbing technique, but judged better not to say a word about this to Laurent.

Having rescued the young prince and properly dressed him, Laurent held his hand firmly as they walked around the camp. Théo was loved by every single person and he most certainly loved them back. Servants, soldiers, commanders or aristocrats, all of them could earn a warm hug from the prince if he wished so. Ranks do not matter for a child. Every person that crossed their way received a “good night” from the prince.

Damen and Laurent returned to their tent exhausted. Théo, on the other hand, was more than active. He threw his doll in the air and tried to pick it up before it hit the ground several times, shouting.

“Théodore, it's late. Let's sleep.” Damen said, pushing his hair back.

“But I want to play, father! Only for a little while! Please, please!” Théo asked.

“No, son. It's time. Come on.” Damen rose, pulling him to bed by the hand.

Théo pouted, but lay down beside Laurent, who placed a kiss on his son's head. Théo turned to face Laurent, caressing his head, like Laurent had done to him so many times. Théo hummed a song Laurent knew all too well. 

“What song is this?” Damen asked. “I feel like I've heard it before.”

“I don't know.” Théo replied.

“It's your uncle Auguste's song.” Laurent said.

“Oh.” Damen sat beside them. “You used to sing it for him, right?”

“Yes. When he was just an infant.” Laurent's cheeks were delicately flushed as he gently tapped the tip of Théo's nose.

“Will you sing it for me, Papa?” Théo asked.

Laurent's eyes widened for a second and he blushed harder. He glanced at Damen, then back at Théo. Damen rose and calmly headed towards the door.

“Where are you going, father?” Théo asked.

“I still have a small errand. I will be back soon.” Damen smiled, his eyes meeting Laurent's.

Laurent avoided his gaze and pulled Théo closer to himself. Damen left them alone and waited outside the tent. He tried not to focus on it too much, but he could faintly hear Laurent singing to their son. Maybe someday Laurent would be comfortable with doing so in front of Damen, but for now, Damen was satisfied with hearing it through a tent. Damen considered it another broken piece on the wall to Laurent's heart.

 

\------------------

 

Chastillon was as beautiful and comforting as Laurent remembered it to be. Somehow, that place reminded him of nothing else but his childhood. The one that had never been stolen from him. The one with Auguste in it.

On their second day there, Laurent took Théo to learn how to ride a horse. He looked at his son, holding his hand, and felt proud to be the one teaching him how to ride, like Auguste had taught him.

He walked into the stables and held Théo, so he could reach the horses head. Théo hesitated, but touched the horses face, copying Laurent's actions. The horse let out a breath through his nostrils and Théo pulled his hand back, laughing.

“Do you want to ride him?” Laurent asked.

Théo vehemently nodded. Laurent put him down and prepared the horse. Théo watched from a corner, where he was told to wait. Damen stood by his side, holding his hand until Laurent waved at them to approach.

“Now, listen carefully. Your foot goes here.” Laurent held Théo, so he could reach the stirrup. “And then you throw your other leg to the side.

Laurent teaching his son the procedures was a mere formality, of course. He was the one who put Théodore on the horse, but Théo felt proud of himself anyway. Théo sat on the saddle and leaned in to touch the horses neck, giving it gentle pats as he had seen Laurent do.

“Father, look! I'm taller than you!” Théo said to Damen.

“Yes, you are, son!” Damen laughed.

Damen had been holding the horse in place by the reins, but did not interfere much with the teaching. He would watch his son first time riding a horse, but he wanted to give this moment to Laurent. This was an important occasion to Laurent, as the Okton training had been to Damen, and Laurent had given him that opportunity to teach their son. So, Damen would reciprocate the gesture.

Laurent took the reins to himself with a kiss at Damen's lips and pulled the horse outside, instructing Théodore. A few minutes later, Laurent handed the reins over to his son and walked alongside the horse, holding onto the start of the rein with two fingers, to guide the horse.

Pride filled Laurent's heart as he watched Théodore riding, even at such a slow pace that Laurent himself strolled at ease. He saw his own figure as a child: feeling delighted at his own still nonexistent skills and enjoying the slow ride. Laurent wondered how Auguste had felt guiding Laurent for the first time. He wondered if Auguste had wanted to hug Laurent and kiss his cheeks as much as he wanted to do with Théodore.

 

\------------------

 

Night came and Théodore slept right after Laurent told him a story. While Damen told him about Akielon warriors, Laurent told him about Auguste, but Théodore listened to him the exact same way: sucking on his thumb and holding the doll Isander had given him.

After Théodore slept, Laurent went back to his room. Damen was at the door, casually discussing something with Pallas.

“Yes, something like that.” Damen laughed, leaning against the door frame.

“Thank you very much, Exalted.” Pallas smiled, excited.

“Damen.” Laurent called.

“Laurent. Is he asleep?” Damen asked, approaching Laurent.

“Yes. Today was quite easy. Shall we take a bath?” Laurent asked.

“Of course.”

Damen's smile was bright as a child who knows it's about to receive a present. He took Laurent's hand and they headed to the baths. Having everything prepared for them, they were left alone. Baths had become a moment Laurent and Damen would enjoy themselves. Personal and intimate conversations, caresses and comforting silences were all exchanged while soaking in warm water. The custom had started when Théo had trouble sleeping alone, leaving them exhausted. But it continued afterwards.

“So, what were you and Pallas discussing?”

Laurent asked, sitting on Damen's lap. Damen leaned against the edge of the bathtub, his long arms resting on its sides. Laurent sat on his lap, facing him and using his husband strong legs as support for him to lean on. His own legs found a small space on each side of Damen's body to hide.

“Hm? Oh, he was having trouble pronouncing some Veretian words. He had been learning it for Lazar.” Damen replied.

“How touching. They learned what their tongues could do, before learning how to use them to talk. A good plan, I must say.”

Damen chuckled.

“Don't be mean. Anyway, I told him Veretian is very simple. All you need to do is learn to pout.” Damen said, purposely wishing to provoke.

“What? We don't pout.” Laurent said.

“Yes, you do.” Damen laughed, bending his left arm to support his head with his hand.

“That's not true.”

“Tell me your argument, in Veretian.” Damen said, using his other hand to pull Laurent closer.

Laurent lowered himself, supporting his weight on Damen's chest.

“I-” Laurent started, but was interrupted by a peck on the lips from Damen. “What was that?”

“Well, you pouting like that so close to me... I thought it to be a request for a kiss.” Damen smirked.

“I-Am not asking for- any kisses. You-Brute-” Laurent was interrupted several times with kisses from Damen.

“Are you sure? You're pouting a lot.” Damen mocked.

Laurent squinted and his mouth slightly curved to the left as he tried to keep himself from smiling. He leaned in and slowly moved his hands up Damen's chest, to wrap his arms around his neck.

“Maybe that's our trick for seducing foolish barbarians such as yourself.” Laurent whispered against Damen's lips.

“Well, it's definitely working.” Damen chuckled and placed another kiss to Laurent's lips.

 

\------------------

 

It was the middle of the night, two days later, when Laurent woke up. There were loud noises coming from outside their room. He rose from the bed and Damen woke up with the movement. Laurent opened the door to find two other soldiers, along with their guards.

“Your Highness, please return to your chambers!” Lazar said, just before an unbelievably large group of men came running in their direction.

Laurent widened his eyes.

“We're under attack!” He shouted at Damen, heading to Théodore's room.

Damen took their swords and followed his husband. Laurent took Théodore from his bed and put him on the balcony, closing the door. Théodore woke up, confused and stood there with widened eyes.

“Don't make a sound.” Laurent told him and closed the door.

As soon as he locked the door, an intense pain he had felt only once in his life hit him. There was a dagger to his shoulder. The pain and the surprise made him let out a scream, but he spread his arms as much as he could to hang onto both sides of the door frame. Laurent closed his eyes to focus on that simple objective: do not let anyone go to the balcony, even if it cost his life.

From behind him, he could hear Damen calling for him. He felt the man behind him remove the dagger from his shoulder and pull his head back, exposing Laurent's throat. Laurent struggled, hoping to gain time for someone to help Théodore. He heard his son calling for him and despair hit him. He could not die or Théodore would be next. 

With that in mind he released the door frame and used his elbow to hit the man's stomach. It worked for a second, in which Laurent released himself from the man's grip, turned and kicked him on the nose.

“Laurent!” Damen threw Laurent's sword at him.

Laurent took it from the ground and killed the man with the dagger, rushing to Damen's side. He supported Damen, who had been holding back a great number of raiders. Even Laurent was astounded to see Damen facing so many enemies at once and not letting a single one pass. Damen had a small cut on his bicep and cheek but other than that he seemed unhurt. Laurent worked together with him, despite the pain on his shoulder.

The number of enemies had lessened after a few minutes, but there was no time to relax. Then, Laurent heard a noise on the balcony and Théodore calling for him again. His tone was not one of worry anymore. He was scared.

“Go!” Damen said and Laurent ran to the balcony.

Théodore was crying and struggling out of a man's grip, just before the man threw him of the balcony. Laurent moved instinctively. His sword hit the ground and he threw himself on the rail, barely grabbing Théodore by the leg. Théo hit his head against the underside of the balcony and stopped moving.

Laurent sword was nowhere to be found, which kept him from killing the man who insisted on punching the arm that held Théodore. The man seemed to have lost his weapon as well, but he was big. Not as much as Damen, but close. When he changed his target to Laurent's head, Laurent could feel his consciousness slipping away with every punch. He needed help, or he would let go of his son's leg.

“Da-” Another punch made his head spin. “Damen!”

Laurent shouted, as loud as he could. Damen took less than a second to come. He used so much force Laurent could hear the man's neck cracking even before Damen threw him against the rail.

Damen grabbed Théo and pushed him and Laurent to a corner, using the balcony's door to protect them while he fought. Laurent checked Théodore's condition, but his son did not move.

“Wake up, please. Wake up.”

The fear he had felt when Théo ate the garden weeds when he was two returned to Laurent's heart. Except now Damen could die too and there was nothing Laurent could do in the state of complete dizziness he was in. He shifted Théo's position and felt his son's soft breath against his neck. A second later, Pallas's voice came, followed by other soldiers and it sounded like a melody to Laurent's ears. They had come to help Damen. With that thought, Laurent's adrenaline levels lowered, and he could no longer hold on to his consciousness as it slowly slipped away.

 

\------------------

 

Laurent woke up inside an unfamiliar room. He, later, recognized it as Paschal's. Laurent tried to move but his right arm hurt so much he could not. 

“You should stay in bed, Your Highness. Your head was hit several times. You had a concussion.” Paschal said.

Laurent remembered the incidents of that night and rose instantly. His vision went black for a second and he struggled to stand. Paschal took the liberty of holding his arm to keep him from falling.

“Where's Damen? Where's my son?” Laurent asked.

“They are outside, Your Highness. In the gardens. They are well.”

“Take me to them.” Laurent asked and Paschal sighed, but obliged.

Damen had a few bandages on his arms. He held Théodore's hands and strolled around the gardens, pulling him up by the arms, so he could jump higher. Théo had a small bandage where he had hit his head. There were about six guards surrounding them, including Pallas, Lazar, Lydos and Atkis.

When Laurent approached, Théo released himself from Damen's grip and ran up to Laurent. Laurent knelt and hugged him.

“Papa! Papa, did the bad men hurt you!?” Théo asked, touching Laurent's face, under his bangs.

“No, no, sweetheart.” Laurent kissed Théo's head. “I'm alright. And you? Are you hurt?”

“Just my head. But it doesn't hurt! I'm very strong!” Théo said, pointing at his own head.

“That's very good to hear, son. I-I love you.”

That last sentence came in a whisper. Damen approached them and kissed Laurent.

“I was worried.” Damen said.

“So was I. Are you alright? I didn't help.” Laurent said.

“Of course you did! You saved and protected our son. You were more than helpful.” Damen said, running his thumb across Laurent's cheek. “I love you.”

“I-” Laurent's cheeks flushed. “I love you too.”

If there was another sound other than bugs flying, Damen would not have hears Laurent's confession. The guards were probably too busy being tense and watching their surroundings to hear.

“It's dawn?” Laurent asked.

“Sunset.” Damen replied. “We should head inside. I have called for troops from Arles. They will protect us as we recover.”

“What happened to our men?” Laurent asked.

“There were almost four times more men than ours last night. Our best survived, but-” Damen stopped, glancing at Théodore.

“I see.” Laurent sighed and rose, taking Théo by the hand. “We should return. It's almost nighttime.”

 

\------------------

 

Two days later, they were in Arles, meeting with the Council.

“It was a clear attack on Théodore. He was their target.” Laurent said. “The man did not care about killing me, he was after him. Commander Jord has a report from the captured men.”

Jord rose and bowed once.

“As Your Highness has suggested, the men were after Prince Théodore. They are part of a rebel group with the objective of destroying the Alliance. They aimed for the prince hoping it would incite riots. They would spread the news to Veretians that Akielons were responsible for the attack and wait for the consequences.”

“So, they tried to kill my son hoping Veretians would attack Akielons, and they would retaliate and attack Veretians.” Said Laurent. His tone as cold as ever.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Jord confirmed.

“Very well. Thank you, Jord.” Laurent said.

“What should we do, Your Highness?” Vannes asked, looking ant Laurent and Damen.

“Did they say anything about their headquarters?” Damen asked.

“They did not, Exalted. They revealed no significant information, besides their objective. I believe this was revealed on purpose.”

“We can't expect this men to come to us for a fair fight. These men have no honor or pride. They are scared little rats who are willing to throw defenseless four year olds from a balcony to agonize until death.” Damen said.

“We can't let them know how much this affects us. We'll wait, call in reinforcements from Akielos and Vere, and be ready. We send in soldiers throughout Vere to collect information. Some of them can go undercover. We find out about their hiding place and then attack.”

“We should plan our strategies thoroughly. Once discovered, they will become even more cautious and almost impossible to reach.” Damen said.

“We have you. I'm not worried.” Laurent said, matter-of-factly and Damen felt proud. “Any objections or last remarks?”

The Veretian Council denied with their heads and the meeting was over. Damen and Laurent left with a few kind words from the Veretian Council regarding Théo and retired to their chambers, to meet with their son.

 

\------------------

 

The night of their departure came over eight months later. Théodore would remain in the castle, under Isander's care and Vannes's supervision, along with the largest amount of capable soldiers a prince had ever had.

Every commander willing to participate in battle had willingly conceded one of their most reliable soldiers to protect the prince. Damen thought the soldiers would be frustrated from being taken out of the battlefield, but they were not. Théodore, at five years old, had the charisma of a beloved leader. The soldiers felt honor in defending their kind prince.

On their last night together for a while, Damen and Laurent played with Théo inside the Throne Room. Théo sat on the throne, wearing Damen's cape and Laurent's crown, holding a tiny wooden sword. He sat on Damen's throne in such a perfect posture that would make Laurent proud.

“Papa will be a soldier! And father will be... Nikandros!” Théo said.

“You mean a kyros?” Damen asked.

“What's a kyros?” Théo asked.

“Akielos is divided in small pieces of land. Like a cake, divided in several slices. A kyros is someone who takes care of that piece of land. In Nikandros case, he takes care of Ios, which is where we live.”

“I see.” Théo said. “Then father will be my kyros!”

The three of them played until it was time for bed. Laurent was turned into a honorable knight by King Théodore's mighty sword and they retired to their chambers. They put Théo in bed and told him about their departure once again.

“When will you come back?” Théo asked.

Damen and Laurent exchanged glances and went silent. There was no way they could be sure they would come back. Anything could happen to kings in battles and that thought hit them at that very moment.

“We don't know yet. Probably in a couple weeks.” Laurent said.

“I see. When you come back, can we ride a horse again, but in Akielos?” Théo asked.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Laurent kissed his forehead.

“Have a good night, son. And be good to Isander while we're away.” Damen said and hugged Théo. “We love you.”

“I love you too.” Théo slept a few minutes after, as if he would meet his parents in the morning.

Damen and Laurent returned to their chambers. Laurent read for a few minutes while Damen lay in silence. Laurent closed his book and Damen did not need an invitation to kiss him. Their kiss was slow and imperative. Both needed it, as much as they needed to make love after.

“Everything will be fine. They are not that strong.” Damen said, stroking Laurent's head.

“But the next ones might be.” Laurent said, lying on top of his husband.

“If they are, we'll fight with all our might and return to our son.”

“We can't leave him alone, Damen. We can't. He can't be left alone at such a young age. He'll be lost, people would take advantage of him and-” Laurent's tone gradually grew anxious with each word.

“Laurent, Laurent, listen.” Damen held Laurent's hair firmly, without being forceful. “We will not leave our son. Not now, not ever. We'll be fine, and so will he.”

“What if there's a war?”

“There is no reason to have a war. No reason for us to die and leave him. Everything will be alright, trust me.”

Laurent sighed and nodded. He placed a kiss on Damen's lips and chest before relaxing in his arms. Damen held Laurent close, squeezing his body against his own.

 

\------------------

 

Almost a month had passed since Damen and Laurent had left. Théo played with Isander in the gardens. He sat on Isander's lap, holding his doll, as Isander fashioned a small crown made of garden flowers to put on his head. Théo watched Isander's work intently until a blurry yellow spot appeared at the corner of his eye. He rose his head to see his parents, walking in his direction.

Laurent knelt and was unable to hold back an honest smile as Théo came running and hugged him.

“Father! Papa!” Théo shouted. Laurent reciprocated the hug as tightly as he could and rose, kissing his son's cheek. Damen wrapped his arms around them both before Théo jumped into his embrace. Laurent stroked Théo's head and looked at Damen.

“I said you could trust me.” Damen said.

“Yes.” Laurent held Damen's hand and his lips remained slightly open, as someone who is about to say something else. Yet he did not.

Laurent simply smiled softly and turned his face. Théo looked Damen in the eyes and jumped up and down on his lap.

“Father, father! Will you play with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ
> 
> Here I am again with a new chapter. Once again I'd like to thank you for all your comments! I always look forward to them. ♥
> 
> Now, allow me to give you a few news: First of all, I believe the next chapter will, unfortunately, be the last. (;ω;) I wish it would never end, but it's time.  
> Second, I'm really sorry but there is a good chance this final chapter will be updated around the end of August. I really wanted to update it soon, and I'll do my best to update it next week, but I'll be really busy with work during the end of July/August. (ಥ_ಥ) Still, I'm gonna try to deliver it ASAP! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Laurent and Théo had been in the library for over two hours. After almost six years listening to Damen and Laurent speaking both Akielon and Veretian, Théodore had amazing skills when it came to speaking. He could instantly switch between his native languages as if it was child's play and the single week they stayed in Bazal had been enough for him to learn a great number of Patran words. But reading was not his forte, writing even less. Laurent struggled to make him understand the simplest of sentences.

“Read it again.” Laurent said.

“No, Papa! I don't want to! I hate reading!” Théo pouted, his cheeks puffed.

“But you must learn it. Try again.” Laurent said.

Théodore sighed and groaned, taking the book in his hands.

“The poet Isa-Isago-Isagoras! Isagoras was bold-” Théo squinted at the words, reading slowly.

“Wrong.” Laurent interrupted. “Read it properly. Every letter.”

“The poet I-Isagoras was bo-born in Isthima.”

“Very well. Now tell me, what did it say?” Laurent asked.

Théo hesitated, frowning.

“I don't know.” He replied.

“Read it again, paying attention to what you're reading.” Laurent said.

“I don't want to!” Théo threw the book on the floor.

Laurent rose an eyebrow.

“I suggest you pick up that book immediately.” Laurent's tone was so low, calm and cold it sent a shiver down Théo's spine.

Théo rose from the chair and picked up the book with so much delicacy and care it did not seem he had ever thrown it. Laurent watched him in silence and waited until Théo placed the book on the table. Théo tried to avoid Laurent's piercing gaze, but it was impossible. It was like Laurent was stinging him like a bee, with his eyes alone.

“I'm sorry.” Théo mumbled, looking at his feet.

“I don't think I heard that.” Laurent said.

“I'm sorry for throwing the book.” Théo said, equally low but much clearer than before.

“I accept your apology.” Laurent gave him a hug. “Go to the end of the library and take a breath. Then, come back here and try again.”

Théo nodded and slowly strolled between the shelves. Laurent waited for him to be far enough and let out a sigh, using his lean fingers to support his head.

He had his eyes closed until the library door opened and revealed Nikandros. He carried a small plate, a knife and two apples.

Nikandros approached and placed them in front of Laurent, earning a dubious look from Laurent. Nikandros pretended not to see it and supported himself on the backside of a chair.

“Are you done?” He asked.

“Not yet.” Laurent replied. His expression and posture did not change. “He's struggling with his readings.”

“I see. I won't bother Your Highness.” Nikandros said and stood. “They are for you and the prince.”

Nikandros's head made a motion to indicate the apples. Laurent took one and rose it, in a thankful gesture. Nikandros bowed and left. If it was a couple years back, Laurent might have wondered if the apples had been poisoned somehow. But ever since the attack in Chastillon, Nikandros had changed.

When Laurent returned to Akielos, Nikandros had received him with widened eyes. Nikandros's first question had been “Are you alright?” and Laurent had thought he might be hallucinating at the moment. Somehow, saving Théodore's life had given Laurent a new status in the rank of Nikandros's heart and the man had been much more respectful towards him. Laurent smiled softly at the apple and unpeeled it, before taking a big bite from it.

 

\------------------

 

When night came, Laurent and Damen discussed the matters of the day while soaking in the warm waters of the baths. Laurent lay on his stomach, with his arms lazily thrown over the edge. Damen sat by his side, listening intently.

“He's rebellious. I'm incapable of teaching him properly before he throws a fit. I don't know what to do. Maybe you're more suited to do this than I am.” Laurent said.

“I really doubt it.” Damen chuckled. “But I'll try. You should take some time off. Perhaps go have a few drinks with your best friend Nikandros.”

Damen laughed and Laurent did too, hiding his face between his arms.

“He brought me apples today.” Laurent rose his head and turned on his side to face Damen.

“He _brought you apples_? Why?” Damen laughed again.

“How can I possibly understand what goes on inside that thick skull of his?” Laurent asked.

“Well, you're quite good at getting inside people's minds, so I wouldn't be surprised.”. Damen pushed Laurent's hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek. “But I'll deal with Théodore.”

“Thank you.” Laurent leaned against Damen's chest.

 

\------------------

 

Damen's method was a little less rigid than Laurent's. He sat on a chair, put Théo on his lap and let him lean against his body, holding the book.

“Alright, Théo. Now tell me what it says.” Damen said.

“I'll try. But it's so hard, father.” Théo said in the lowest, cutest tone.

“I know son. But you have to learn how to read.” Damen told him.

“I know, father. I really want to. But it's hard.” Théo pouted.

“No, it's not. Here, look. 'The young boy saw the...'” Damen started.

Théo stared at the book, frowning and hid his face on Damen's chest. Seeing his son so sad hurt Damen's heart.

“Come on, son. You can do it. It's 'wolf'! See? W, O, L, F. Wolf.”

“Father, you're so smart! I wish to be as smart as you when I grow up!”

Damen's heart filled with pride and they continued the lesson.

After a few hours, Damen let Théo head to the gardens with Isander. Laurent waited in the Meeting Room, looking over a few treaties.

“Hello.” Laurent greeted him, keeping his eyes on the papers.

“Hello.” Damen sat by his side, smiling.

“How was it?” Laurent finally rose his head to look at Damen.

“It was good. Fun.” Damen proudly said.

“...'Fun'?” Laurent rose an eyebrow and supported his head on his fingers, skeptical. “Did he read?”

“He-.” Damen haulted.

He did not recall seeing Théodore reading a single word. Damen was the one reading, in all his memories. He flushed, realizing, at last, he had been manipulated by a six year old. Laurent's eyes felt like swords, piercing his body with pain and shame for every second Damen kept silent.

“...Read.” Damen lied, avoiding Laurent's gaze.

“I'm not sure if you're more of an idiot for not being able to make a child read in over two hours or for this pathetic attempt of a lie.” Laurent said.

“I-! He-! He was so convincing!” Damen said, mostly out of shock from his son's behavior.

“You're an adult! A king! And a very good one, no less! How can you lead armies, fight enemies, create plans that could win any battle and still manage to be fooled by a six year old!?” Laurent rose from his chair.

“Well...” Damen threw his head to the side in a lazy motion. “He's really clever and... Adorable.”

“Oh. Good. Next time I plot against you, I'll make sure to add a few adorable children to my plans.” Laurent sighed and left.

Laurent marched to the yards where he found Isander crouching, playing with Théo. As soon as Théo saw Laurent his eyes widened and he glanced at Isander. In a second, Théo pushed Isander to the ground and ran as fast as he could.

 _Of course._ Thought Laurent.

Théo could manipulate Damen and his foolish giant heart, but he knew he had no chance against Laurent. Slowly strolling, as if he was taking a walk on the beach, Laurent followed his son. He lost track of him, but it did not matter. He simply approached a guard, with all the grace and composure he usually possessed.

“Find Théodore and bring him to the library. If he resists, grab him, but _do not_ harm my son.” Laurent said and calmly headed to the library. Then he waited. And waited. After over an hour, the one who brought him was Nikandros. Théo cried, fidgeted in Nikandros arms, but it had no effect whatsoever.

“I heard you asked for him.”

“Yes. Over an hour ago. How hard is it to find a child in a castle?” Laurent rose and Théo stopped moving as soon as he approached.

“When he's a prince who knows how to win other people's hearts? Quite some time.” Nikandros said and put him down.

“Well, thank you. You may go now.”

Nikandros bowed briefly and left. Théo looked around, probably thinking of another escape route. Laurent stepped away and sat on the chair, taking a paper and pen. He indicated the chair in front of him and Théodore hesitantly sat down. Laurent wrote under his son's watch for a few seconds before passing the paper over to Théodore.

“Have you ever signed a treaty?” Laurent asked.

Théodore was excited. He had seen Laurent and Damen signing treaties many times, always wishing he could sign one. He denied with his head and took the pen Laurent offered him.

“Write your name here.” Laurent said, tapping on the bottom of the paper.

Théodore did so and looked up at Laurent, excited. Théo wrote his name wrong, in Akielon, but it did not matter.

“Now, let's check what it says?” Laurent smiled. “Let's read it together.”

Laurent pointed at the first word and Théo read it.

“'I.'” Théo started and Laurent moved to the second word. “'Théodore.' That's me!”

“Yes, it is.” Laurent kept his smile, guiding Théodore through the words.

“'P-Pri-Prince of Aki-Akielos, Vere and Aqu-Aqui-Aquit-Aquitart, give Laurent, King of Vere and Aqui-Aquitart, my doll, gi-given to me by my serv-servant Is-Isa-Isan-Isander.'”

Théo read it very slowly, struggling with the words and took a few seconds and many times to understand what he had read. Laurent patiently waited.

“No! I don't want to give you my doll!” Théo shouted.

“Well, it's on paper. It cannot be taken back. Your doll is mine now.” Laurent said, taking the paper for himself. “I wonder what I'll do to it.”

“No! It's not fair! You tricked me!” Théo rose from his chair, stomping the ground.

“Oh, so you do understand manipulating others is wrong?” Laurent sarcastically asked. “Because it doesn't seem so, considering you did this to your own father.”

Théo lowered his head, his tiny hands in fists on the side of his body.

“Your father is a kind man, with a naive sense of trust. He has a good heart and would do anything for you and yet you lie and deceive him.” Laurent continued.

“...I'm sorry.” Théo said.

“It's not to me you should be apologizing to. And now you understand why a king must learn to read? This time it was a doll. Next time you might as well give up your throne, your army, your lands, who knows? Anything people want from you, all they need is a written agreement, since _you can't read_!”

“I'm sorry. I-I just hate it so much! I can't do it! It's too hard, papa!” Théo's eyes watered. Not fake tears this time, but honest ones.

“I understand that. But life is just like that.” Laurent pulled him by the arm and put him on his lap. “When I was a child I was terrible at physical combat. I trained for a long, long time before I got better. Had I given up, I wouldn't be here today. I needed my fighting skills to save my life and the life of those I love.”

Laurent said and wiped the tears from Théodore's eyes. Théo hugged him, hiding his face in Laurent's chest.

“I'm sorry, papa. I-I will try again.” Théo said.

“Thank you.”

Laurent said and took the contract, rising from his chair, holding Théodore in his arms. He approached a torch and placed the treaty on the fire, letting it burn.

“There. Now it's gone. Your doll is yours again.” Laurent told him.

Théodore hugged him tighter.

“Thank you, papa.”

 

\------------------

 

Théo had always been a shy and quiet child. He felt at ease with servants, guards, but had a hard time talking to those he had never seen before. And being the only heir to the Alliance and the only child Damen and Laurent could have, he was also sheltered from most things.

Therefore, he was almost seven and had no friends his age. After a long talk, Damen and Laurent decided to allow him to play with the other children in the castle.

There were not many of them. Probably no more than five. Damen approached and all of them widened their eyes at him. It felt like they were watching one of their greatest heroes approaching.

“Good morning.” Damen said.

The children replied in unison with a “Good morning, Exalted!” and whispered among themselves. Théo hid behind Damen's leg before Damen took a step to the side to expose him.

“I will come back by the end of the day.” Damen told him and started to leave.

Théo held onto his arm, but Damen released himself from Théo's grip. He had to let Théo act for himself. He could not use his status as king to help his son at that moment.

“It's alright.” Damen said and left.

Théodore stood still, hugging his doll, with his head low. The children came running towards him and Théodore's eyes looked for Damen, but he was gone.

“Wooooah, your eyes are so blue!” One of them said.

Théo flushed, lowering his head again.

“It's like the ocean!” Another said.

“No, idiot! It's like the sky!” Said the only girl.

“My mom bought a Veretian dress the other day that's exactly the same color.”

The kids laughed. Théo looked around, trying to find a comfortable place. He found one in the arms of a guard. Théo held on tight, in silence, hiding his face as the children stared in confusion. After a long time, the guard decided to take him back to his kings.

Damen and Laurent were discussing a few matters with Nikandros and Jord, in the Meeting Room. The guard knocked on the door and was allowed in.

“Exalted.” He started and both Damen and Laurent sighed.

“What is the matter, Théodore?” Laurent asked and took Théo from the guards arms. “Thank you. You may leave now.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard said and left.

“We'll give the young prince some privacy.” Jord said and left with Nikandros.

“Thank you Jord. Nikandros.” Damen smiled and scratched his own nape.

Laurent sat back on his chair and kept Théo in his arms. Damen moved his chair to Laurent's front and sat down, placing his hand on Théo's leg.

“What happened son? Why aren't you playing with the children?” Damen asked.

“They don't like me.” Théo hid his face on his doll.

“Why do you say that?” Laurent asked.

“They were laughing, and said my eyes were like Veretian dresses and kept staring at me!” Théo explained.

“And what's wrong with having eyes that look like beautiful dresses?” Damen asked, turning Théodore's face to himself.

Théo pouted, looking down.

“Son, listen, imagine a rose garden.” Damen said and pulled his chair closer. “Tell me what kind of roses you see.”

Théo looked at him, a mix between intrigued and sad.

“There are the red ones. Yellow too. Pink. There are a lot of pink ones.” Théo answered.

“Do you see a blue rose?” Damen asked.

“No.” Théo said.

“What would you do if you went to our rose gardens one day and discovered a blue rose?”

“I think I'd look at it. And show you and papa. Also Jord and Nikandros! And Pallas! And Lazar too!” Théo answered, excited.

“So, you'd want everyone to see it? Why?” Damen smiled at him.

“Because it's a blue rose! It's nice! And no one has ever seen one before!” Théo explained.

“So, you're saying people should see it because it's beautiful and unique, right?”

“Yes!” Théo smiled.

“Well, you're that rose, son. You have dark skin, like mine, and deep blue eyes like your papa. You're very rare, like a blue rose, and that's why people keep staring. They're admiring your beauty and uniqueness. Not making fun of you.” Damen smiled at him and planted a kiss on his son's forehead.

“Are they really?” Théo asked, looking at Laurent.

“Of course, sweetheart. Your father would never lie to you.” Laurent caressed Théo's head.

“Now, why don't you go play?” Damen suggested, pulling Théodore by the hand.

“Let me.” Laurent rose after Théo, taking his son's other hand.

Damen rose an eyebrow but Laurent kept his relaxed expression. Damen nodded and let go of Théo, allowing Laurent to go alone. Laurent had a plan and Damen would trust him on this.

Laurent left and headed to the gardens, approaching the children. If there was anyone that caught their attention more than Théodore, it was Laurent. His fair skin and yellow head were like colorful signs in front of a shop. They all watched Laurent as he approached and crouched.

“Good morning.” Laurent said in Akielon and the children got excited.

For children from Ios, Laurent was a foreigner speaking their language. Laurent answered tons of questions before he found the opportunity he had been looking for.

“Can you speak Veretian?” One of them asked.

“Yes, I can. And you know who speaks Veretian as well as I do? Théodore.” Laurent said, pulling his son closer.

“Really!?” The children surrounded Théodore.

Théodore squeezed Laurent's hand in tension and his cheeks were flushed. He shyly nodded, glancing at his father.

“Say something! Say something!” One of them asked.

“Say 'I love cake'!” Another suggested.

“I-” Théodore said, in Veretian, so low the children got completely silent to hear it. “I love cake.”

They all laughed.

“Veretian is funny!” One said.

“Say something else!” Requested another.

Théo smiled and looked at Laurent.

“I'll be back later.” Laurent said and rose. “Will you take care of him for me?”

He looked at the children and they all nodded. The girl held Théo's hand and pulled him, being followed by the others. Laurent was about to leave when Théodore called for him, asking him to wait.

“Papa, c-can you take my doll?” Théo said, handing it over to Laurent.

Laurent took it and Théo ran back to his friends.

 

\------------------

 

Damen and Laurent waited for Théo in their chambers. After attending to their affairs, they had tried to take Théodore, but he asked to play for a while longer. They were relieved, so they asked the nearby guards to bring him back when he asked for it.

They regretted that decision when Théodore opened the door completely and absolutely covered in mud. His combed hair had become a tangled mess and it was almost impossible to find a single spot of white in his chiton. Even so, Théodore's bright smile made every hint of regret leave their bodies.

“Let's...” Damen started, trying to hold back his laugh. “Take a bath.”

“Alright!” Théo smiled and held Damen's hand. “Father, I got thrown in the mud!”

“I can see that.” Damen laughed.

Laurent took Théo's other hand, walking far enough not to dirty his impeccable Veretian clothes.

They entered the baths together and Théodore talked. And talked. And talked even more. Laurent washed his face, but Théo got quiet for just a second, while Laurent's hand was on his mouth. When it was gone, he talked some more.

After over two hours of talking, Théodore got tired and finally slept. Damen and Laurent left for their room, throwing themselves on the bed. Laurent leaned on the pillows and Damen lay on his stomach, by his side.

“Do you hear that? Pay attention.” Damen said.

“What?”

“Silence.” Damen laughed and Laurent rolled his eyes, pushing Damen to the side.

“He's almost seven and I don't think he has ever spent so long talking.” Laurent said, laughing.

“I know! He was so excited. I'm really glad.” Damen lay on his side, stroking Laurent's leg.

“We should have done this sooner. He's so happy.” Laurent said.

“He needed some friends beside his parents and guards.” Damen added.

“You mean someone to complain about us to.” Laurent chuckled.

“Exactly.” Damen laughed and kissed Laurent's cheek. “We should sleep. Good night.”

“Good night.” Laurent kissed Damen's lips and lay together with him.

 

\------------------

 

Théodore had struggled with written materials for quite a while, but after dominating the phonetic aspects and getting used to the letters from each language, he became enamored with books. At nine years old he enjoyed practicing for the Okton with Damen and riding horses with his parents, but he could also spend hours on end in the library.

That day, he and Laurent were reading together. Laurent sat on the couch, stroking his son's head and reading. Théo lay on the couch, his head rested on Laurent's lap and the book supported on his own chest. A servant entered the library and approached them.

“Your Highness, pardon my intrusion. King Damianos has requested your presence in the Meeting Room.” He said.

“Very well.” Laurent took his eyes from the book. “I'll be there in a moment.”

The servant left and Théo sat up. Laurent kissed his son's head and rose.

“I'm sorry. We can meet again later. Have a good reading.” Laurent said and put the book back in its place as he left.

Théo nodded and watched his father leave. He put down his book and searched for a new one.

 

\------------------

 

Damen and Laurent left their emergency meeting late at night. They were exhausted as they went to check on Théo in his room. But there was no one there, and no guards on the door. Théo had not returned.

“I'll go check on him. He's probably in the library. You can rest.” Damen said, placing his hand on Laurent's nape.

“Are you sure?” Laurent asked.

“Of course. If anything comes up, I'll call for you, I promise.” Damen pulled him in for a kiss and left.

Damen found the guards outside the library.

“Is Théodore still in there? Has he eaten?” Damen asked.

“Yes, Exalted. Commander Jord has brought him food earlier.” The guard replied.

“I see. Thank you.”

Damen walked in and the library was dark. The food Jord had brought remained untouched over the table and Damen heard a soft cry from somewhere inside the library. He lit up one of the torches and followed the whimpers until he found Théodore, sitting on the ground, hugging his legs, surrounded by books. Théodore had his face hidden in the space between his knees and chest while his shoulders shook.

“Son, what's the matter? Are you alright?” Damen asked.

“Go away!” Théo shouted, but did not raise his head.

“Théodore, why are you crying? What happened?” Damen crouched close to him.

“Get away from me!” Théo rose his head, got a book from the ground and flimsily threw it in Damen's direction.

“Théodore, this is not right! Why are you doing this?” Damen said, easily dodging the book, even though he did not need to.

“Why did you kill uncle Auguste?” Théodore looked Damen in the eyes and it hurt more than any book he might have thrown.

It was the first time in Théo's life that Damen saw his son looking at him with such grief. Damen could see in his eyes the hurt and betrayal he felt.

“Théodore, it was a war.”

“Caused by _your_ father! You should have stopped him!” Théodore argued.

“I never said it was Auguste's fault. But war is different. I-”

Damen tried to find the words to explain, but they all sounded like excuses. Seeing his own son looking at him like that felt like a sword, slowly and painfully penetrating his heart until Damen would bleed out.

“I have no excuses. I can never apologize for this, because there is no apology good enough to exclude me from what I've done. But I-”

“I'll tell papa.” Théo rose and said that sentence in Veretian, as if the language could make the words sharper as they pierced Damen's heart.

It worked.

Damen followed Théodore, not rushing. It was not like he had anything to hide. Still, his heart felt warm as he walked into his room and noticed Théodore had not yet told Laurent. Laurent held their son's face in his hands, staring at him with worry.

“Damen, what happened? Why is he crying?” Laurent asked.

Damen glanced at Théodore. Théo's mouth was open and trembly, but his eyes kept returning to Damen, as someone who suffers from an internal struggle. Damen decided to put an end to that.

“He found out about Marlas. He might have read it in a book.” Damen said.

Laurent's expression went blank after a gentle sigh. He sat on a chair and kept holding Théo's hands. Théo's eyes went wide and even more tears came out.

“You knew.” Théo said and pulled his hands away from Laurent's.

“I did.” Laurent admitted. “From the very moment I met your father.”

“Then-How could you!? Why did you marry him!? Why aren't you angry!?” Théo asked.

“Because I was. For a long, long, long time, I was angry. I hated him. So much I even mistreated him. I hurt him. And now that I love him, every single day of my life I regret the way I treated him before.” Laurent said.

Damen kept himself silent, leaning against the door. Somehow he felt it was not his place to speak at that moment.

“But-But-It's not fair!” Théo wiped the tears of his eyes.

“No, it's not. But wars aren't fair. People die, cities get destroyed and it brings sadness to both sides.” Laurent explained.

“But why couldn't they have talked? You always tell me to try and talk to people. Why didn't father and uncle Auguste tried talking?”

“Because some people don't want to hear it, Théodore. My father-King Theomedes, he wouldn't have stopped.” Damen crouched beside Théo. “I'm sorry. I really am sorry for what I've done. But I did what I had to do, at that moment. I know now that I should have tried to talk to him, but I didn't know it at the time.”

Théo lowered his head, trying to hold back the tears. Damen wanted to hug him, but he was not sure if he should. Laurent did that for him and Théo wrapped his arms around his father's neck. Laurent struggled to rise while holding Théodore and lay on the bed with him.

Damen shook his head to indicate the door to Théo's room and headed there after receiving a nod from Laurent. Damen entered Théodore's room and sat on the bed. He took Théo's doll and stared at it. He remembered Théo receiving it, as a toddler from Isander. Then he thought about Marlas, Auguste, Laurent and all he had been through, the Regent, Kastor, Jokaste.

It had all happened because of that single instant his blade had been faster than Auguste's. Had he lived, maybe none of it would have happened. Had he lived, maybe Damen would have never found Théodore. Maybe his parents would still be alive, or they might have not even met. There was no way to know it.

Laurent walked into the room a few hours later and took Damen from his thoughts. Laurent sat by his side, but said nothing. His posture was the same as usual.

“Has he slept?” Damen asked.

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Does he hate me?” Damen asked.

Laurent's hands found Damen's back. Lean fingers traveled through it until they reached his lower back.

“Not as much as I used to.”

There was no malice in Laurent's words. Just regret.

“I love you both. My life would be meaningless without you in it. If Théo starts to hate me-” Damen said.

“He doesn't. He's just angry. I should have never talked like that about Auguste. I knew this would happen and-” Laurent flimsily shook his head.

“No. Don't say that. Auguste was your brother, your protector, he was meaningful in your life. You had the right to tell our son about him and I'm glad you did. I just wish he had not found out about me. Well, not like this. We should have checked the books.” Damen said.

“That's irrelevant right now. Just give him time. I'll talk to him.” Laurent said and rose.

Laurent stood in front of Damen and ran his fingers through Damen's hair, pushing it back. Damen softly held his waist.

“Thank you.” Damen said.

“You're welcome.”

Laurent leaned in and kissed Damen's forehead, then his lips.

“Damianos.” Laurent said. Not to Damen.

Their lips continued to touch as Laurent lowered himself to lay on top of Damen. He kept his hands beside Damen's head, eyes focused on his husband's. Damen kept still, staring into the deep blue of Laurent's eyes. Laurent kissed him a few more times, as if he was learning how to accept Damen all over again. Damen kept his hands on Laurent's waist, giving him the time he needed.

 

\------------------

 

A little over a week had passed. Damen had kept his distance, trying to respect Théo's wishes. Théo would look at him sometimes, but never talk. Laurent would try to make him, but Damen did not want that. He wanted Théo to willingly speak to him.

Damen had just finished a meeting when Laurent approached him. They waited for Jord and Nikandros to leave together, discussing trivial matters.

“Go get him.” Laurent said. “He's playing in the yard with the other children.”

“Laurent, no. I don't want to force him to talk to me.” Damen sighed.

“Damen, you're his father. He misses you. He told me himself, last night. He's just afraid you don't care for him anymore.” Laurent said.

“What!? But why!? I have given him space, I have let him think things through. Why does he think that?” Damen argued.

“Because he's not me.” Laurent held Damen's cheek in his hand and guided Damen's eyes to his.

Damen felt naive for not realizing it sooner. He had gotten so used to Laurent's temper, to step away and let Laurent to his thoughts that he forgot Théodore was not Laurent.

Théodore was no longer an infant or a toddler, that follows his parents wishes. He was a nine year old boy, with his own personality, thoughts and ways of dealing with his emotions. While Damen's distance was what Laurent needed, it was not the same for Théo.

“I'll go. Thank you.” Damen held Laurent's face and touched their foreheads together.

Laurent said nothing. He smiled softly and gave Damen a gentle tap on the hip as he left.

 

\------------------

 

Damen reached the gardens and saw Théodore playing with his friends. He approached and called for his son. Théo turned in his direction and Damen saw all the blue in his eyes. Théo said goodbye to his friends and came in Damen's direction quickly, almost running.

“Father.” Théo rose his hands to the level of his chest and kept them there after a single glance at Damen's hand.

Damen offered his hand and Théo took it, trying to hold back his smile. He held on tight and Damen reciprocated. Both of them smiling naively, focusing on their touching hands. After a few minutes, Damen felt Théo's embrace on his arm. Damen looked down and found his son looking up at him. Théo avoided Damen's gaze by looking down but kept hugging Damen's arm. They returned to the kings chambers together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! (´ヮ`)ﾉ  
> I'm really, really sorry I failed to deliver this in August as I expected to. (ಥ_ಥ) I completely underestimated how long it would take to finish this final chapter and had a hard time writing it. But now it's here!!!  
> Thank very much for waiting and I hope you have a good reading!

Laurent helped his son tie all the laces of his Veretian clothes. Théodore wore a dark tone of purple – The color he had chosen for himself – with black pants and brown boots. The dark colors made his skin seem brighter and his eyes stand out as much as the gold laces on his wrists and back.

Laurent tied the last lace on his son's wrist and paused for a second, to admire the sight. At twelve Théo was still a child, but anyone could see the discreet signs that he would become a beautiful man in the future. Laurent was proud for a second before remembering what beauty has brought to himself in the past.

“Papa?”

Théo's unbroken voice called and Laurent met his eyes. Théo's brows were slightly furrowed in worry. Laurent smiled softly and placed his palm on Théo's chest. His hand that could once almost cover Théo's whole upper body would now only reach the extension of his chest.

“I-” Laurent started. “I'm very proud of you.”

Théo flushed and turned his face away. Laurent smiled and caressed his son's head, kissing his cheek and standing up.

“Come. Let's rub your clothes on Nikandros' face.” Laurent smirked, pulling his son by the hand.

Théo chuckled, holding Laurent's hand back. They left and Théo noticed Laurent's smile be replaced by an expression Théo was familiar with, but could never understand. It showed nothing. Happiness, sadness, anger; no feelings were conveyed through that expression.

“Papa.” Théo asked as they were about to leave the room.

“Yes, Théodore?” Laurent stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

“How come you always act so kind when we're alone but become so serious in front of others?”

Laurent stared at Théodore for quite a few seconds before his explanation came.

“Because a king never shows his true feelings. A king must be strong and confident in front of others, or people might take advantage of him.” Laurent explained. “A king's job is to show conviction and assurance to his people.”

Théodore nodded in understanding, thinking about what had been said to him. Laurent left the room, pulling his son along. Théodore watched his father carefully this time and tried to copy Laurent's dignified posture. Théo stuffed his chest, looking ahead with his head high, stealing a few glimpses of Laurent from the corner of his eyes to correct himself.

Laurent pretended not to notice so that he could seem not to be as proud as he was. Specially seeing the expression on Nikandros face as they walked in. Nikandros glanced at Théo, then Laurent, then Damen. All in the span of one or two seconds and with his slips parted.

“Hello, son. You look very good.”

Damen said and Nikandros squinted his eyes towards him as if Damen had completely lost his mind. Laurent loved it. Théo thanked Damen and rushed to his side, holding his hand.

“Are you ready to go?” Damen asked.

Théo let out a long sigh, looking down for a moment. Then he nodded and Damen rose. Laurent held Théo's other hand and the three left together. Laurent held back his laugh when he heard Nikandros mumbling something about a wall tapestry.

 

\------------------

 

Théo was accompanied to his place of birth by his parents and a few soldiers. He was unsure about what to expect, but it certainly did not involve such a terrifying sight. The village had been completely abandoned, and the remaining houses were still destroyed.

“Which one was mine?” Théo asked.

Laurent guided his horse to the first house Théo had ever lived in. His son followed him on his own horse and Damen came behind. Théo dismounted as they approached and his parents did the same.

“Would you tell me how it happened?” Théo requested.

Laurent looked at Damen, who lowered his head in thought. Laurent knew he was uncomfortable with it. Damen had clearly stated Théo was too young for this, but Laurent had convinced him otherwise.

“I had a feeling I should check this house.” Laurent started and Damen tensed up. But Théo would not let this go, and Laurent knew it. “When I got in, I saw your father. Your biological one.”

“Here?” Théo asked, looking around the living room.

“Yes.” Laurent said, but added nothing further. Damen sighed almost imperceptibly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Théo's eyes wandered around the room, searching for any evidence of his former family. Realizing there was close to none, he turned to Laurent and held his hand.

“Then?” Théo asked.

“Then I headed to the bedroom.” Laurent said, pulling Théo along. “Your mother was here. She gave her life to save yours.”

Théo said nothing, but squeezed Laurent's hand and nodded. It was his way of showing insecurity, while reassuring Laurent he could go through. Even so, Laurent crouched so his height would not be so intimidating.

“Are you alright? You can stop anytime.” Laurent said.

“No. I just-It's alright.” Théo assured him and glanced at Damen.

Damen approached, feeling it was his cue to do so. The corner of Théo's mouth rose for a second and his hands searched for Damen's. Damen also lowered himself and Théo gave him a hug.

Laurent smirked at Damen's proud, foolish smile. Damen had always teased him about being the best when it came to hugs, after all.

Théo let go and his parents kept their expressions calm. This experience was not to be traumatic, but to be significant. Théo's parents had given him life and sacrificed their own so he could live.

Thanks to them, Laurent and Damen were able to have the child they had dreamed about. Thanks to them, the Alliance had an heir, a new prince and future king. These people, without knowing it, had given future to the Alliance that allowed them to be together in the first place.

Théo let out a breath and turned back to the cabinet. He opened it and looked inside.

“I was in here?” He asked.

“Yes. You lay right here, wrapped in a blanket.” Laurent explained, touching the bottom.

“I used to fit in here?” Théo chuckled.

“Well, you were really tiny.” Laurent smiled. “You used to fit right here on my chest. And you loved to sleep in my arms.”

Théo kept smiling, his eyes sparkling. Laurent touched his son's hand and saw Damen turning his back at them. Théo held Laurent's hand and supported his head on Laurent's shoulder. Laurent allowed himself another moment of fondness and caressed his son's head, leaning his own against it.

After what felt like a mere second for Laurent, Théo stepped away, strolling around the room.

“Where are they now?” Théo asked from the door.

“On the back of the house.” Laurent replied.

“Can I go see them?” Théo asked Damen this time.

“Of course, son.” Damen replied after a single moment of hesitation, which only Laurent was able to notice.

Théo left, holding his parent's hands. They reached the back of the house, in which two special graves had been created. The area seemed like an oasis amidst the fallen village. It had a delicate metal fence around the two graves and many flowers Damen and Laurent made sure to have planted every year.

This time, Théo was the one bringing two roses to the garden. He was alone as he walked into the fence, with a respectful bow. Théo crouched, staring at the gravestones marked with a starburst and a lion, side by side. He was silent for a while.

“Huh-Hello.” Théo started. “I'm Théodore. I'm your son.”

Théo was silent again.

“I'm sorry. I thought about a lot of things to say to you, but at the moment all I can say is 'Thank you.'. Thanks to you both I could be born, I could survive the attack, I could become a prince. And I promise you I'll be a very good one. I promise. This here, you see, is a rose. It's my symbol. I chose it myself. My father Damen told me I'm rare like a blue rose and I believe I owe this to you as well.”

Théo smiled softly and places a pair of roses on the graves.

“My parents, the ones who raised me, are very grateful as well. They told me several times to thank you as soon as I got here.” Théo admitted. “You gave me everything, but you also gave them the one thing they could not have. They are grateful to you, everyday of their lives. So, in their name, I wish to thank you once more.”

Théo rose, bowing once more before turning around to leave. He excused himself and returned to Damen and Laurent. Théo held their hands and glanced behind once more before leaving together.

 

\------------------

 

Théo eagerly awaited his chance, pressing his ear against the door that connected his and his parent's chambers. Laurent and Damen had this tradition of disguising themselves to go to the city and enjoy the nightlife. Théo found out about it around twelve, by listening to Pallas and Lazar discussing it. After carefully planning, he started to forge his own escape route.

At fourteen, he had mastered it.

Laurent and Damen left and Théodore waited. He counted five minutes in his mind and rose from the bed, changing his clothes. He carefully and silently opened the balcony door, taking a blanket long enough to allow him to reach the window on the next floor. He tied it carefully on the balcony rail and lowered himself.

Placing his feet on the sill from the window below, Théo pushed his hands against the sides to balance himself and rose one of his feet to open the window. He did so and got into the room.

Having passed the part in which the ocean waves crashed against the cliff beneath him made things easier, but escaping a castle was not a simple achievement. He glued his ear to the door and listened intently. The guard passed in front of the door and Théo knew he would be going to the end of the corridor before returning. Théo judged his timing by listening to the guard's paces and by peeking through the small opening of the door. No one was around, so he moved on to the next spot, behind a pillar.

Going from hiding spot to hiding spot, he managed to reach the entrance. He turned right and escaped from the kitchen, since the workers had a passageway on their own. It was guarded, of course, but Théo knew those guard's pattern as well. His escape was complete.

Théo wore a black cloak, hiding his face. No one would recognize him by the color of his skin, but his eyes stood out like a diamond in a barn. He moved through the streets until he found a small house. He walked around it and gently tapped on the right window from the back.

A few seconds later, there was movement inside the room. A young girl, around Théodore's age unlocked and lifted the window. Her sleepy eyes were hazel and her skin dark. But none of these features made her as beautiful in Théo's eyes as her hair. It was dark as the night and so curled its volume created a roundish shape around her head.

She was the most stunning creature Théodore had ever laid eyes upon and he felt his heart skip a beat just from having the honor of looking at her. In his eyes, she was absolutely perfect. Her voice was like a beautiful melody that entered through Théo's ears and crawled its way to his heart.

“Hello, Théo!” She said, from the window.

“H-Hello, Iva.” Théo said in the lowest tone.

“Wait a second! I'll change!” She said and Théo nodded.

Théo sat down, his back against the wall, waiting for Iva. His cheeks were flushed and his heart beat fast. Théo took advantage of his cloak to wear Veretian black pants and a white shirt. He wanted to make a good impression, but in a delicate way.

His Akielon father, with his large built exposed by his short clothes imposed respect and fierceness as he walked through the castle. But Théo's Veretian father was granted it. Laurent looked delicate, but absolutely perfect, as a marble statue. And it was that unfaltering perfection Théodore wished to achieve.

Iva escaped through the window and adjusted her chiton. She took his hand and they ran together through the town. They rushed to the port and turned left, climbing a tall rock to reach a small, hidden patch of sand. Théo removed his cloak and carefully hung it on a rock. Iva threw sand at him and they played for hours on end, splashing water and playing with the sand.

A few hours passed and Théo was helping Iva shake the sand out of her beautiful hair. It was scrunchy and easily bent under Théo's fingers. He could spend an eternity touching it with care.

“Y-Your hair is very pretty.” Théo commented and wanted to vanish from the way his voice oscilatted.

“Thank you.” Iva's voice was as low as Théo's.

Their shouts had ceased. Théo knelt beside her to focus on the front part of her hair. Iva glanced at him and flushed.

“Y-Your eyes are very pretty too.” Iva told him and, this time, Théo was the one who flushed.

Théo's felt like his heart would jump out of his throat. He liked Iva so much he wanted to be with her forever. He wanted to hold her, to carry her back to the palace by the hand... To kiss her. Théo wanted to kiss her so very much he thought he might die if he could not.

“I-!” Théo started. “Iva I-I really, truly like you. I-I mean-!”

Théo tried to remember his planned the confession. The one he had rehearsed so many times in his room, facing a mirror and feeling embarrassed about.

But Iva said nothing and kissed him.

Just like that, as if nothing else mattered. As if she needed no speech or convincing. Her lips touched his for a single second, so fast Théo thought he might have imagined it. As he looked into her eyes he saw her flushed cheeks bathed in moonlight and her lower lip hidden under her teeth.

Théo got a little closer and Iva did not move away. He closed the gap between their lips and they kissed again. It was an innocent, chaste kiss, with eyes shut so hard it created wrinkles on their expressions. Théo backed away and they stared into each other's eyes for a while before giggling awkwardly and turning their faces away.

Théo heard the strong steps of soldiers from the other side of the rock. He turned his head in that direction and approached the rock slowly.

“Check over there.” One of the soldiers said.

“He's not here. Shit. Where the fuck is this kid?” The other replied and they moved away.

“They're looking for me.” Théo widened his eyes, looking at Iva.

“Let's go back.” Iva placed Théo's cloak to cover him and they climbed the rock together.

Théo could feel his own hands sweating on Iva's. Laurent and Damen had obviously returned and noticed his absence. Théo did not even want to imagine what would happen to him. He rushed through the streets, pulling Iva along with him. They were about to reach Iva's house when a soldier grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey, kid! Take off your cloak!”

Théo turned to him and the soldier widened his eyes.

“He's here!” He shouted at his two companions, who had been searching for Théo. “My prince, please come with me.”

“Théo-!” Iva squeezed his hand.

“It's alright. Go back home.” Théo said.

“Who is this girl?” The second soldier approached.

“I guess we know now why our prince has escaped.” The soldier who held Théo's arm said.

“Should we take her back too?”

“No!” Théo replied. “I'll go! Just take her to her home. She has done nothing wrong.”

“We should take her anyway. What if the kings ask for her?” A third soldier said.

“No! I am your prince and I say let her go. She has committed no crime, she has no reason to be taken and exposed like this.” Théo said, letting go of Iva's hand and pushing the hood from his cloak back.

As he did so, those few who still wandered the streets unaware of the commotion started to look their way. A fourteen year old boy with olive skin, blue eyes and Veretian clothes underneath a cloak. There was not a single soul in the Alliance who would not recognize these features, as there was no one who would deny the opportunity to see the prince first hand. All the eyes were on him and the whispers became more intense by the second.

The guards quickly looked around and pulled the hood back, to cover Théo's head, pulling him away. Théo did not even had a chance to say goodbye, or even look back at Iva.

When Théo walked into the castle it was like the building was under attack. All of the servants ran around, searching every room and corner of the castle. They all stopped when they saw Théo and formed a corridor by his sides, to look at the prince, making sure it was him and that he was safe.

Isander came rushing, and knelt in front of Théo, hugging him. It was not like him, so Théo simply stood, with his eyes widened.

“Your Highness!” Isander's embrace was strong, but gentle.

“Step away from the prince!” The guards pushed Isander away.

“Leave him!” Théo said and held Isander back. “It's alright. He can hug me.”

The guards took their hands off Isander instantly. Isander profusely thanked and apologized to Théo, with a deep and humble bow. Théo replied by simply hugging him for a few seconds.

“I have to go now. My parents-” Théo started.

“Of course! Of course, Your Highness!” Isander rose and wiped a few tears of his eyes.

Théo smiled at him and headed to the Throne Room with the guards. Damen had been supporting himself on the wall with one arm, while Laurent sat on the throne, supporting his head with his fingers.

“Where were you!?” Damen turned around as Théo walked in and his voice was like a roar, echoing through the large walls.

Damen approached and, for the first time in his life, Théo considered the possibility of getting slapped. As his father had taught him, he rose his head and stuffed his chest, ready to receive the blow that never came.

“Damianos!” Laurent had called, loudly, and Damen halted.

Théo was not sure if Damen would have actually hit him, but Laurent had stopped _something_. Damen took deep breaths and pushed his hair back. Laurent rose and approached him, as Damen turned around, pressing his palms against his eyelids.

“Your father asked you a question. Answer him.” Laurent said.

“I was playing.” Théo said. It was not a lie.

Laurent calmly stepped closer, with his arms crossed. He used the height Théodore had yet to gain as an intimidation technique and looked down at him.

“I highly suggest you explain _exactly_ what you were doing. With details.” He said, almost in a whisper.

Théo gulped loudly, but kept his eyes locked on Laurent's.

“I found out you left the castle sometimes over two years ago. I wanted to see the city too, so I did. I was out meeting someone. No one dangerous. I have been careful.”

“'Careful'. You think leaving the castle, alone, in the middle of the night can be considered _'being careful'_!?” Damen shouted.

Théo flinched for a second, but kept his posture. Laurent kept his eyes on his son. Théo could almost _see_ Laurent's intricate mind working, plotting his next action.

“Who were you meeting?” Laurent asked.

Théo's eyes went wide and he pressed his lips together. Laurent's expression did not change. Not even a single muscle moved.

“What will happen to the person?” Théo asked.

“Is this person an adult?” Laurent asked but Damen was the one to react.

Damen's eyes widened and he stared at Théodore. Théo found it strange. The question seemed incredibly pointless, but he assumed he could be true.

“No. She's my age.” He admitted.

Damen let out a breath he had been holding for far too long.

“Oh, so it's a girl.” Laurent said.

Théo realized his mistake and sighed. He looked to the side, then back at Laurent, but said nothing. Damen seemed calmer, staring at Théodore.

“Is she a friend of yours?” Damen asked. “Who is she?”

“What will happen to her?” Théo repeated his question.

“Nothing will happen to her. She has done nothing wrong. You, on the other hand, will be severely punished. But I believe you're already aware of that.” Laurent said.

“She's my friend.” Théo confessed. “And my queen.”

Laurent rose an eyebrow and Damen was, to say the least, shocked.

“Forgot about Erasmus already?” Laurent mocked.

Théo felt enraged. He had fallen in love with Erasmus as a child, during their trip to Bazal, but it was a foolish six year old crush. This time, Théo knew it was more than that. He wanted Iva and no one else.

“She's different. I'm not a child anymore. I want her.”

“Yes, you are. You are a child and you don't know what you're talking about. No go to your room and stay there. Isander will stay with you. And if you dare, if the simple thought of manipulating Isander crosses your mind, I swear you'll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“I do know. I love her. I have done so for almost a year.” Théo answered back.

“Congratulations. Come talk to me when you have for twenty.” Laurent said and left.

Damen sighed. He pulled Théo by the arm and hugged him tightly.

“Don't ever go outside alone again.” Damen whispered.

Théo reciprocated, suddenly feeling guilty. He could see Damen was nothing more than scared of losing him, and Théo understood the reason why. Théo had never considered he might have been hurt outside. The weight of being the only heir to the Alliance fell over him.

“I'm sorry. I won't.” Théo said.

“Go to your room.” Damen let go of him and ordered the guards to take Théo and call for Isander to accompany him during the night.

 

\------------------

 

Damen met Laurent in their chambers. Laurent stood, supporting himself on the back of a chair. Damen approached him and held his hand.

“He will not see that girl again.” Laurent said.

“Yes, he will.” Damen told him.

“He will not. I don't care if I have to chain this child to his bed!” Laurent turned around.

“Even if you did, he'd find a way to leave. And if he didn't, is this really what you want? To see him unhappy?” Damen asked.

“Oh, please, Damianos. He's fourteen. What does he know about love? People don't marry their first lovers.”

“You did.” Damen said.

“I beg to differ.” Laurent told him, his eyes cold as ice.

“You did. That wasn't love, you said it yourself. I was your first lover and we've been together for nineteen years.” Damen argued.

Laurent crossed his arms and Damen could swear he saw a slight blush on his pale cheeks.

“She will be allowed in the gardens. They will be watched at all times.” Laurent said.

“Alright. That seems appropriate for now.” Damen nodded in agreement.

“Ugh! What an obstinate little boy.” Laurent pushed his hair back, frustrated.

“I wonder where he got that from.” Damen smiled.

Laurent smirked, turning to face Damen.

“Whatever do you mean by that, my dear?”

“Really? In one year or so you went from having a single fort to king of Vere. Overcoming The Regent, which was not easy, to say the least. You trained for so many years you beat Govart, a man twice your size. Should I go on?”

“Yet I've never beaten you, though.” Laurent admitted.

“Are you certain? Because you're in _my_ castle, giving orders to _my_ servants and ruling _my_ country. Just because you didn't crave your sword through my chest it doesn't mean you haven't reached my heart.” Damen said.

Laurent's upper body backed away and Damen could see he was surprised. He certainly did not expect that. Laurent ran his fingers through Damen's hair, pushing it behind his ear. There was the hint of a smile on the corner of Laurent's mouth.

“What?” Damen asked.

“Nineteen years.” Laurent said. “Less than six months away of twenty.”

“That's a long time.” Damen smiled foolishly and held Laurent's waist.

“Yet it's not enough.” Laurent's fingers crawled through Damen's hair as he held his husband's head. “Would you have hit him?”

Damen sighed, placing a hand on top of Laurent's.

“No, of course not. I mean-I'm not sure. I lost my mind. I was so terrified of what could happen... Are you-?” Damen answered.

“No. I understand. It's just unusual to see you loose your calm towards those you love.” Laurent explained. “You're usually a soft little animal.”

That last sentence was said in a provocative tone and accompanied by a smirk. Without notice, one of Laurent's games had begun. The corner of Damen's mouth rose in disbelief as he approached his husband slowly, like a feline on the hunt.

“Oh, is that so?” Damen asked and firmly grabbed Laurent's arms to push him on the bed, lying on top of him.

“Yes. A tiny, soft, little bunny.” Laurent allowed himself to be thrown against the mattress and tapped his index finger on Damen's chin.

Damen let out a breath of amusement. After everything that happened, this night could be interesting, after all.

 

\------------------

 

Laurent assumed Théo would get tired of Iva in the blink of an eye. He assumed his son would find someone else to exchange caresses around the palace, specially after puberty made Théo the size of Nikandros and as beautiful as Damen. Laurent assumed he would not need to worry about a vile snake reaching into his son's heart to steal everything from him. His only mistake was to think Théodore was capable of thinking with anything else but his heart.

“She wishes to participate in Théo's classes?” Damen asked from the corner of their chambers, while Laurent sat on a chair.

“Not all of them. Only history, politics... You know, the ones relevant to a king.” Laurent's ice-cold eyes did not move away from Damen's. He was making sure his message got through.

“Laurent, please. She's not like that.” Damen said.

“Says who? Théodore?” Laurent rose an eyebrow.

“Says me.” Damen said.

“Oh, yes, of course. The man who was blind enough not to see his own brother's betrayal.”

Damen took a deep breath, trying not to get frustrated. This gratuitous, provocative behavior from Laurent not only irritated, but it hurt.

“I can't let her steal everything we worked so hard for.” Laurent said.

“Did it ever occur to you that we could ask? That we could talk to her? To him? That some people can be trusted? Or did you forget I was your worst enemy at the moment we met?” Damen spit back at him.

Laurent was silent, but not at a loss of words. He had enough words to write a book, but decided against saying them. He had noticed Damen's expression as he talked about Kastor and he knew he had lost his temper again and crossed the line. Laurent rose and sighed, walking up to the window.

“You must have faith in our son. He has made the choice of being with Iva and you must let him live his life.” Damen started. “I understand he is the future of our Alliance, but what do you expect us to do? To keep an eye on him during his whole reign? Because I can tell you the flaw in that plan right away, in case you haven't realized it yet.”

Laurent kept staring at the moon, his hands squeezing the window sill as the fresh air of the night invaded his lungs. Not a sound could be heard besides the crash of the ocean waves under them.

 

\------------------

 

Damen had finished teaching Théodore and Iva about Akielon history when Théodore was summoned. He had riding lessons with Laurent next. It was a busy day. Perhaps too busy for a sixteen yeard old boy. Damen rose and Iva took the liberty of rising after him, closing the books to organize them back in the shelves.

“Allow me.” Damen said, helping her.

“It's alright, Exalted. Please, give me the honor.” She said, not looking him in the eyes.

“There is no need to be so formal. Inside this room, I am nothing but your teacher.” Damen smiled.

“Which means I'm using the perfect amount of respect.” She smiled softly and Damen had to admit she was a beautiful girl. 

“What do you mean?” Damen asked.

“A teacher, Exalted, is the most important profession in the world. Even kings need knowledge in order to rule.” Iva said, placing the books back in the shelves.

Damen held back a laugh at the way she moved. It was so gracious and dignified it reminded him of the very one he had fallen in love with. Laurent had more in common with this girl than he was aware of.

“I'm going to be a queen someday.” Iva said and Damen froze.

Laurent's words of warning echoes inside his mind along with Nikandro's, who had warned him about Kastor. Damen feared for his son and his kingdom's future and it had obviously showed in his expression, since Iva stood still, one hand resting on the book she had just put back and a smirk across her lips.

“It's alright, Exalted. I have no plans of stealing your kingdom. In fact, if I may confess, I'd rather keep living in my house, doing my chores. Royalty, you see, doesn't have much freedom.” Iva said, returning to the task at hand.

“I beg to differ. We can do pretty much anything we desire.” Damen told her.

“That's power, Exalted. Not freedom. Théodore had never walked freely around town with no guards to keep him safe before he met me. He had never tasted the disgustingly dirty, but delicious sweets sold by Mr. Alekos, by the docks, or played amongst adorable dogs infested with fleas.”

Damen intently listened to her talk and wondered how life was for his people and how different his life would be, had he been one of them.

“But, in the end, I truly love Théodore. I have since the moment I met him.” Iva put the last book on the shelf and turned to face Damen. “He's sweet, kind and, well... I must admit those eyes made his wooinh  _very_ convincing.”

Iva let out a breath of amusement which matched Damen's. Damen scratched the stubble of his beard and placed a hand on his waist.

“Yes, they hold a certain power over us, don't they?” Damen kept smiling.

“I'm willing to give everything up and become a queen for Théodore. But I don't wish to be a useless piece of jewelry for him to wear. I will not be his second crown, I will be his partner. I will support him and, if possible, guide him to the best path during dark times. But to be able to do that I must learn. I must be educated.”

“But you are. You speak well, you knew how to read long before you came here...” Damen said.

“What good does knowing how to read do if there is nothing to read, Exalted?” Iva smiled at him and looked around. “You have more books in a single shelf than most people read in a lifetime. If I am to be queen, I must receive knowledge and guidance from the likes of you, Exalted.”

“You are very clever.” Damen told her. “I admire you very much. Very determined too. As a queen must be.”

Iva smiled at him and Damen reciprocated. The silence that followed felt as natural as the ones with Laurent. It was comfortable and felt like home.

 

\------------------

 

The painting hung from the palace's marble walls. A pair of hazel eyes looked up at it, admiring the colors and details of the painting. It was a painting of a man with long, blond hair and deep blue eyes. She had heard many stories about him.

“Amélie!” A much too familiar male voice called.

The three year old girl suddenly remembered she should not be wasting time and rushed to the King's chambers, holding the rag doll which one belonged to her father.

Laurent stood in front of the door, discussing matters with a soldier. After dismissing him, he noticed the young girl rushing towards him. She rushed to hide between his legs and Laurent used his robe to cover her.

“Papa!” Théodore came, looking around. “Did you see Amélie?”

“I did not.” Laurent lied, his expression firm. “What did she do?”

“She broke a vase.” Théo said, sighing. “I'll check her room again.”

Théo commented and left to look for his daughter. Laurent waited for him to be far gone before opening the edge of his robe, pulling the young girl from his legs and holding her in his arms.

Laurent walked into the room with a satisfied smile and Damen knew all too well what had taken place outside.

“You spoil her.” Damen told him.

“I am a King. I may spoil my grandchild as much as I wish. Besides, I have already raised a child. My job is done.” Laurent said, lying on the bed with Amélie on top of him.

“A child that is now looking for _this_ child. And you're misleading him.” Damen said, but there was not a single tone of disapproval in his voice.

Amélie rose and walked towards Damen, who took her and gave her a warm, strong hug. Laurent caressed her head and Damen looked down at him. For a moment, he was brought back to twenty five years ago, when Laurent lay like this, caressing their son's head. Laurent had a few more wrinkles, but he was still the most beautiful person in the world.

“I'll take her back later. For now, let's enjoy her company. She will only be this young for so long.” Laurent said.

“Very well.” Damen nodded and sat Amélie on his lap. “Amélie, have I ever told you about Markos, the great warrior of Akielos?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! Phew! I hope it wasn't too much, because this time there was a huge age gap between the first and last time you see Théodore, so I was a little worried.  
> But anyway, I wrote all I've been dying to write for quite a while now! (´ヮ`) (I hope you liked Iva's character!!! (;ω;) )  
> I'm really glad I decided to write for this fandom. You guys are simply great! The support you gave made me excited to write and to do my best. I will definitely be writing more for this fandom!  
> For now I have a one-shot I need to give the final touches, but I have plans for other multichapter fics in the future! (You can follow [my Tumblr](http://shinchiisanakyojin.tumblr.com) or keep an eye on the [CP Feed](http://ao3feed-captiveprince.tumblr.com) if you wish to check it out!)  
> Thank you guys for everything! It was amazing! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ


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